Or I should say—’ ‘Eugenia,’ cut in Gerald grimly. So, when I tell you she loves you, I know. "You will never leave me," sobbed the poor woman, straining him to her breast. I just want him, and no one else will do. She lunched at a creamery in Great Portland Street, and as the day was full of wintry sunshine, spent the rest of the lunch-hour in a drowsy gloom, which she imagined to be thought upon the problems of her position, on a seat in Regent’s Park.
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