She turned her cheek to the cold sill; and by and by the sill grew warm and wet with tears. Sheppard, pressing her hand to her temples. I MUST. God is a jealous God, and He turned upon me relentlessly. Play foul, and win. ’ ‘You were quite as bad to me as I was to you,’ Gerald protested mildly, sitting down beside her. She went on her way now no longer dreaming and appreciative, but disturbed and unwillingly observant behind her mask of serene contentment.
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