I’m not a bit afraid of anything—scandal, difficulty, struggle. "But you've done well to trust me. White leaned forward in her chair with an anxious smile designed to throw oil upon the troubled waters. Gerald’s thoughts raced as he reached out supporting hands and murmured meaningless phrases to soothe. . Gerald raised his cockaded hat, and smiled. Spurlock plodded through the heavy sand, leaden in the heart and mind as well as in the feet. He wore a threecornered hat, a sandy-coloured scratch wig, and had a thick woollen wrapper folded round his throat. He never seemed to take full advantage while they were in his mammoth automobile. This was the bitterest hour he had ever known.
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