’ ‘It’s too late for that,’ Gerald told her evenly. They had been playing tennis, with his manifest intention looming over her. But when all was over, a sorrowful calm succeeded, and, if not free from grief, she was tranquil. “Come,” she said. “Really?” “Would not let it go. Jack now carefully closed the shutters, while Blueskin struck a light, with which he set fire to a candle. Winny, my love, come with me. Her eyes flashed. Why can’t you let it be?’ Gerald grinned at him. God must love me, for he has guided me here. “She cannot be aware,” he continued, “that she is making herself conspicuous. Or, if this goodlooking young fellow will only say the word, I'll go with him. Have you got someone in mind for me?" "Finish your breakfast and I'll tell you the story. She looked more than her sixty odd years, in spite of a still lush head of black hair, streaked with a little grey, which was visible under her cap and of immediate interest to Gerald.
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