If I were to marry you now I should feel a dependent being all my life—a sort of parasitical creature without blood or muscle. ” They were eating quails when they returned to the topic of love. Her faculties seemed for a moment numbed. “My child, I do not wish. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. We’re different. Set on unravelling her secrets, Gerald pursues every possible clue—much to the indignation of Mademoiselle. "Come and see the lagoon in the moonlight. I'm a slave to my word. “You belong to me,” he said fiercely; “the marriage certificate is in my pocket.
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