You don’t wear a dinner coat with a flower in your button-hole, or last night’s shirt, or very glossy boots, nor do you haunt the drawing-room in the evening, or play at being musical. I’ve tried to use my authority. “Why do you hate me again, my love?” He seemed to brighten, feeding upon the intensity of her emotion. ’ Gerald knew the caress in his voice was a trifle ironic. “This life is killing me! Oh, it is dull, dull, dull!” Suddenly an idea seemed to strike her. ‘Gérard, do not go,’ she cried, breathless.
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