She felt him as something solid and strong and trustworthy beyond measure. ’ Gerald sat back in his chair, thinking hard. Her face reminded him of a delicate unglazed porcelain cup, filled with blond wine. Her heart failed her and her resolution became water. And most of the others she had met had, she felt, the same steadfastness. The chapel was crowded to excess. A hundred pounds to the man who takes him. She munched her bland Whopper as he wolfed three in a row, stuffing his mouth with half a dozen French fries at a time. There was a pause, and then the front door slammed. She would write to Gerald. They were his friends, and they recognized his unusual earnestness. “If ever you do and I can help you in any way, by advice or inquiry or recommendation—You see, I’m no believer in feminine incapacity, but I do perceive there is such a thing as feminine inexperience. Wrap yourself in my cloak, and keep it.
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