“The white unaggressive woman who corrects and nurses and serves, and is worshipped and betrayed—the martyr-queen of men, the white mother. I had dreamt of the olive grove beyond the courtyard I had once been fascinated 198 with as a boy. Once again, he passed his hand over the surface and carefully noted all the obstacles. Afterwards we started for a motor ride to a place outside Paris for déjeuner, and I suppose the man’s nerve failed him. I knew it. ‘For my part, I am in no hurry to end this exciting little adventure. ’ ‘Now you come to mention it, it is stupid,’ Gerald said, struck. She was supposed to be reading at home, and after breakfast she strolled into the vegetable garden, and having taken up a position upon the staging of a disused greenhouse that had the double advantage of being hidden from the windows of the house and secure from the sudden appearance of any one, she resumed the reading of Mr.
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