"Gone," replied the wounded man. She mentioned, with familiar respect, Christ and Buddha and Shelley and Nietzsche and Plato. His face was half hidden under a freshly pipeclayed sola topee—sun-helmet. ’ ‘That has put “only Gerald” very firmly in his place,’ mourned Gerald. “Life’s so queer,” she said, kneeling and looking into the flames. This she put into the trunk. Jonathan caught her in his arms.
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