It was a moment or two before Gerald, opening his eyes on the girl’s astounded expression, recollected himself sufficiently to pull out of the extraordinary impact she’d had on him. My only excuse is that I missed my way here, and I am leaving Paris early to-morrow morning. His hand fell lightly to her chest where her heart was 211 beating, almost tenderly. You make a game with me, imbecile. He'd never forgive you.
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