Her sense followed the shoulders under his coat, down to where his flexible, sensitive-looking hand rested lightly upon the table. I will do all this not because I love you, but—because you are Anna’s sister. ‘Where’s the sense in running away?’ ‘Doesn’t trust me,’ Gerald said briefly. A narrow entry, formed by two low walls, communicated with the main thoroughfare; and in this passage, under the cover of a penthouse, stood Wood, with his little burthen, to whom we shall now return.
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