Part 8 And as she sat on her bed that night, musing and half-undressed, she began to run one hand down her arm and scrutinize the soft flow of muscle under her skin. ‘You would read my mind?’ Gerald was pretty certain he already had, but he did not say so. Wrenching his hands from her shoulders, she thrust them away and leapt up from the chair. I am used, you understand, to guard my secret. He had never wanted daughters. " This expression was old in Ruth's ears. This at once thrilled her and worried her. You only mean a secret for a little time?” “Just for a little time,” she said; “yes. That her husband was not touching her anymore grew to be like a disease, something to be cured. During this period Sir Montacute has been gathered to his fathers.
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