Gregory B. ’ *** It must have been fate, Gerald decided, near an hour later, staring intently at the closed French windows on the raised alcove that led out to the terrace. Certainly, there wasn't a thing in the pockets. Stories … love stories: and to-morrow she would know the joy of reading them! It was almost unbelievable; it was too good to be true. But I’m not a slut either, if that’s what you think. And at the sight something leaped within her. "What the devil are you about! Will you allow yourself to be beaten by a couple of kids?" "Not if I can help it," returned Abraham, making a desperate effort to regain his feet.
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