” “Blood of my heart!” whispered Capes, holding her close to him. His build was medium, he would never 5 tower over his peers, yet his shoulders were broadening, betrayed by an undeveloped set of pectoral muscles underneath his button-down shirt that she could tell frustrated him. She had felt deserving of the punishment, as he had been mainly concerned that she would be killed by accidentally falling into the pit, but it was a terrible insult. She held it by the neck and broke the end of the bottle on the hard dirt. “I will come—with pleasure,” she said, “if you will promise to treat me as a new acquaintance—not to refer to—Paris—at all. The thing rankled in her mind night and day. She read on and on, now thrilled by the swiftly moving drama, now enraptured by the tender passages of love. Stanley’s acquaintance in the train and shown him one or two trifling civilities. For was not Gerald a gentleman? An Englishman, whose services any female—excluding her own self so idiote— would be very happy to have.
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