She twisted her fingers tightly. "I loved you," replied Jack,—"don't start—it is over now—I loved you, I say, as a boy. “Does he never speak to you of—of old times?” she faltered. Evidently her foresight has saved me a funeral. ’ *** It must have been fate, Gerald decided, near an hour later, staring intently at the closed French windows on the raised alcove that led out to the terrace. At length, he fell down on the road, fully expecting each moment would prove his last.
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