He cherished her. ‘Maybe not,’ Gerald conceded, ‘but I’m damned if I herald my approach with a lot of unnecessary blundering about in the dark. It may be treacherous, it may lay up a store of future woe; but it insures present happiness, and that is sufficient. ‘How could I know that it is you?’ She peered at him in the darkness. “It’s like Troy!” said a voice of rapture. The rejection caught him like a slap in the face.
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