You must forgive the poet’s license I take. ’ Gerald’s jaw tightened. Perhaps in two or three weeks. That night in Paris I saw on the bills ‘Fatal Motor Accidents. Instinctively she knew—some human recollection she had inherited—that she must not disturb him in this man-agony. The will to live had returned. But it’s love you should’ve had when you were tiny and I didn’t give it to you.
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