"There's an old proverb," continued Wood, rising and walking towards the fire, "which says,—'Put another man's child in your bosom, and he'll creep out at your elbow. “Yes,” she said, “that is what we ought to do. Gracious, there’s the gong. And son of a pig,’ she grunted, baring her teeth. The crowding impressions of the previous weeks seemed to run together directly her mind left the chaotic search for employment and came into touch again with a coherent and systematic development of ideas. ‘Why did you kiss me?’ ‘I don’t know,’ Gerald admitted.
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