“I came directly I was disengaged,” Anna answered. Dieu du ciel! Gerald was kissing her! She struggled to be free, and the arms that held her loosened, the lips leaving hers. “Touch a hair on his head and you will insure that I will never make love to you again. Anna comes to London. Instinctively she knew—some human recollection she had inherited—that she must not disturb him in this man-agony.
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