We’ve done nothing to deserve it. She was aware of him—a silk-hatted, shiny-black figure on the opposite side of the Avenue; and then, abruptly and startlingly, he crossed the road and saluted and spoke to her. "A good idea!" exclaimed the carpenter. “I want to be your friend,” he said. That was the only sound he heard. ’ She sipped at the liquid in her glass, but her eyes remained fixed, rather unnervingly, on Gerald. But then you're an adopted son, and that makes all the difference.
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