One morning he caught her hand suddenly and kissed it. She had a few acquaintances, English gentlemen, but she lived with her sister—was a lady. It was a moment or two before Gerald realised that he could feel the fluttering of her pulse beneath the light touch he had on her wrist, and that her fingers were trembling in his. I firmly believe that she is as straight as a die. I next proceeded to Jenny Bunch's, the Ship, in Trig Lane—there I got the same answer.
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