Now, however, as Gerald watched them, their heads were together and they were murmuring in French. " Something reached down into his heart and twisted it. But I don't understand her; she's over my head. The last thing that she remembered was her eyes crossing as she tried to focus upon the crunch of leaves as she lay heaving upon them, dampening them further with the outpouring of her sweat as it leaked from her clothing. ‘Gérard!’ ‘Yes, it’s I,’ he said, and grinned.
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