He sat before a desk littered all over with papers and official looking documents. She was pensive and thoughtful. ’ Gerald eyed her with interest. ‘What are you, a nincompoop? She was Nicholas’s wife, of course. He was conscious of a peculiar pleasure in sitting there and thinking of those few hours which already were becoming to assume a definite importance in his mind—a place curiously apart from those dry-as-dust images which had become the gods of his prosaic life. He glanced at his watch. She relented out of exhaustion, yet he would not let her near Marina, his embrace tightening. Why ain’t you gorn? Seems to me I had ought to arrest you. But I shall take care of Ruth, work for her and fight for her.
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