She had in her suitcase a small scrapbook, only a few pages, what little information she had gathered on him through the years. Her head dipped deeply into the current, and she narrowly escaped being swamped. On the way he confessed. “You’ll get me to allude to it, but you’d have to torture me to admit it. ’ ‘Oh, have you?’ grunted Gerald, surprising in himself a surge of some odd emotion at these words. Come now, I am very glad to see you again so soon, mademoiselle whatever-your-name-is. More than this, it would serve to mitigate her own abysmal loneliness to pool it temporarily with his.
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