’ She pronounced the name with painstaking accuracy, Gerald noticed. “I am lonely. "Let it pass. That world of fine printed cambrics and escorted maidens, of delicate secondary meanings and refined allusiveness, presented itself to her imagination with the brightness of a lost paradise, as indeed for many women it is a lost paradise. I knew it was in vain to cry 'murder!' in the Mint, so I had recourse to stratagem. "Another such attempt," said the latter, "and you are a dead man.
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