Then he lifted the black cloak-like garment from the floor. “You did not tell me that you were going out, or I would have offered my escort. You were probably robbed in Hong-Kong. “I wonder,” he said, “how you would like to be made love to—boldly or timorously or sentimentally. A row of magnificent, and even then venerable, elms threw their broad arms over this pleasant spot. Stories … love stories: and to-morrow she would know the joy of reading them! It was almost unbelievable; it was too good to be true. Usually it was fish sticks and reheated noodles. . ’ ‘I am afraid that there is,’ Gerald told her evenly. "I can't help thinking of it, Sir," answered the widow. ‘Is it worth it?’ he asked at last.
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