A door slammed. ‘Laisse-moi,’ she panted, shifting wildly in his hold, so that he had all to do to keep her thus imprisoned. Just as they reached the eastern outlet of the churchyard— where the tall elms cast a pleasant shade over the rustic graves—a momentary stoppage took place. You are yet a child; and though you have strayed from the right path, a stronger hand than your own has led you thence. Their flitting hands were always touching. Why else?’ Gerald stared at her blankly.
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