A moment before, the surface of the stream was black as ink. Free! All the fine ecstasy, without the numbing terror. He could not pull her soul apart now to satisfy that queer absorbing, delving thing which was his literary curiosity; he had put her outside that circle. "Go to your own room, woman, directly, or I'll make you!" "Make me!" echoed Mrs. She turned off the light and approached the window. ‘You would know more of me?’ ‘I would know everything about you,’ Gerald told her, his tone at once provocative and inviting. “Life is upsetting enough, without the novels taking a share,” said Mr. F.
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