He was conscious of a peculiar pleasure in sitting there and thinking of those few hours which already were becoming to assume a definite importance in his mind—a place curiously apart from those dry-as-dust images which had become the gods of his prosaic life. I loitered in the shop as you chatted with the butcher’s girl. Hill closed his eyes. ’ Gerald grinned. This done, she waited at the side of the bed; but he gave no sign that he was conscious of her nearness. To lose was death, quickly and mercilessly delivered.
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