‘If you shoot me,’ Gerald said quickly, throwing out a hand, ‘I shan’t be able to rescue you. She spent a very disagreeable afternoon and evening—it was raining fast outside, and she had very unwisely left her soundest pair of boots in the boothole of her father’s house in Morningside Park—thinking over the economic situation and planning a course of action. “I am sorry,” he said slowly. Though nearly dark, there was still light enough left to enable him to discern surrounding objects. Reverse psychology or something, it’s like she was trying to draw him nearer by pushing him away.
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