‘Give me my pistol!’ Gerald shook his head, slipping the pistol into his pocket. But some day she would find a place to love: there would be rosy apples on the boughs, and there would be flurries of snow blowing into her face. But that did not stop Trodger, who had ridden up from Kent for the purpose, from detailing every little inspection and sortie that his men had made in their allotted task of watching Remenham House. ” “I didn’t mind that little argument. I can’t love you. I’ve a dread of love dropping its petals, becoming mean and ugly. Love—admiration for your matchless beauty alone sways me. What could I do at home? The other’s a crumple-up—just surrender.
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