’ Gerald reached out and took her hand, enclosing it between both his own. A traffic of copious barges slumbered over the face of the river-barges either altogether stagnant or dreaming along in the wake of fussy tugs; and above circled, urbanely voracious, the London seagulls. ‘For once, you’re talking like a sensible man. Have you not tired of sadness and pain?” 81 She thought she could hear tears in his voice but would not look at him. It is impossible.
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