The street was deserted, no pedestrian school-goers walked immediately in front or behind them. But to confess about Gerald— no, a thousand times. He stood still, almost breathless. “The Holy Ghost! The Pope! My mother!” She squealed. She leaned back in the corner of the cab with a little sigh of relief. The twists in his brain had suddenly straightened out; he was normal, wholly himself; and he knew now exactly what he had done. But she wished she could put the thing she had done in some way to them so that it would not hurt them so much as the truth would certainly do.
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