The boy would never know just how lucky he was. ‘Gérard, do not go,’ she cried, breathless. Lord Charvill champed upon an invisible bit for a moment or two, closing the gap between himself and the girl, and muttering the name to himself in an overwrought sort of way. Such of his features as were visible were of coarse mould. She found herself anxious to read more of him, and the next Wednesday she went to the British Museum and hunted first among the half-crown magazines for his essays and then through various scientific quarterlies for his research papers. All its better points were improved, while the less attractive ones (and they were few in comparison) were subdued, or removed. There was a look in her eyes which puzzled him. "You were a little out of your head. It is as if my lips had been sealed about them.
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