‘For God’s sake, let go my hand,’ he begged. ‘Don’t dare address me by such a title. 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. Now, however, as Gerald watched them, their heads were together and they were murmuring in French. ’ ‘Don’t talk soft,’ begged Martha. The girl’s gaze met his in interested inquiry. ‘You obstinate little devil. I am on my way to an aunt who lives in Hartford, Connecticut. He was absolutely unable to focus his ideas.
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