’ Gerald smiled. . The more haste, the worse speed—better the feet slip than the tongue. It was the only time she had ever hit him, punched him right in the stomach like one of his favorite Three Stooges episodes. But he only went home again to Paddington. She descended the stairs, and found herself at last in the street—alone. . Never again to be alone! To fit herself into this man's life as a hand into a glove; to use all her skill to force him into the position of depending upon her utterly; to be the spark to the divine fire! He should have his book, even if it had to be written with her heart's blood.
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