He jumped out of the car. “In Paris. He would refuse to listen and absolve her unshriven. And behind— there was Paris, memories of amazing things, memories which made his cheeks burn and his heart beat quickly as he sat there waiting for her. ‘Now you see why it is I no longer require the proof of which I have spoken. “Really?” “Would not let it go. She remained for a few moments standing as though listening to his retreating footsteps. ‘Give me my pistol!’ Gerald shook his head, slipping the pistol into his pocket. But if not himself, there would be another soon enough. From time to time she would come upon a line of singular beauty or a paragraph full of haunting music; and these would send her rushing on for something that never happened. "I should call it putting him out of the way. He was absolutely unable to focus his ideas.
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