Gerald studied the darkness beyond the aperture. He knew not how to act, urged as he was in two directions. He now understood her interest in Taber, as he called himself: habit, a twice-told tale. My son wanted to marry a woman of thirty in a tobacconist’s shop. The little grating in the door, the sense of constant inspection, worried her. It seemed to show a want of affection, to be a deliberate and unmerited disregard, to justify the reprisal of being hurt. . Gosse cursed him finely, of course, but there was nothing he could do.
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