“You did not tell me that you were going out, or I would have offered my escort. She doesn't love you; she hasn't the least idea what it means beyond what she has read in novels. But they’ve just been to see General Charvill. The place was crowded, and the people about her were almost equally made up of very goodlooking and enthusiastic young people and a great variety of Goopes-like types. She thought of the marvellous beauty of skin, and all the delightfulness of living texture. It’s the rarest luck, the wildest, most impossible accident. Glancing towards him she saw that a shadow had fallen upon his face. ” To which the only possible reply seemed to be, “I’m not coming home. Gerald watched her vanish into the darkness, unusually incensed. ‘It—it is—nothing,’ she uttered jerkily. Me—I’m nothing but a country wench, and one who went to the bad.
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