"Whatever you like, Hoddy," she agreed, wiping the sweat from her forehead. ” She paused. She saw his purpose and his doubt hesitated also, and then went to him, took his coat lapels, and kissed him on the cheek. You’ll end there one day, mark my words. ‘He can’t be Valade, that’s certain,’ mused Gerald, unheeding. It was an awful moment—so awful, that every other feeling except deep interest in the scene seemed suspended.
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