‘You would know more of me?’ ‘I would know everything about you,’ Gerald told her, his tone at once provocative and inviting. But she must not laugh. “But why,” he said in the gasping voice of one subduing an agony, and looked at her from under a pain-wrinkled brow, “why did you not tell me this before?” “I didn’t know—I thought I might be able to control myself. . \" She fibbed. McClintock watched her interestedly until her golden head vanished below; then, with tolerant pity, he looked down at Spurlock, who had closed his eyes. ‘But you said—’ Gerald tutted. I loitered in the shop as you chatted with the butcher’s girl. Down there, whisky raises the very devil with white men. His pale and boyish waist was nearly as slim as her own. She exited solemnly, retrieving and carrying Michelle’s unconscious figure into the forest like a reluctant bridegroom. He'd have enough to do to protect himself, without attending to you.
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