‘What in God’s name do you think you’re playing at?’ ‘Let me alone, man,’ Gerald muttered under his breath. McClintock sent his yacht over for us this morning. "Perhaps you could point out such a party, Mr. It’s a tremendous blow, of course—but it doesn’t kill me. Yet the smoke was curling upwards in a faint innocent-looking cloud to the ceiling. I can’t explain—” They regarded one another, each blinded to the other. He was conscious of a peculiar pleasure in sitting there and thinking of those few hours which already were becoming to assume a definite importance in his mind—a place curiously apart from those dry-as-dust images which had become the gods of his prosaic life. ’ ‘Damnation!’ Gerald burst out, crossing towards her.
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