It was not a long prayer. He started a dozen stories, but they all ended in the waste-basket. “I will be off,” she declared. ‘Do please continue,’ Gerald begged, deceptively docile. Roused by Ben's warning, the carpenter looked up and could just perceive the dusky outline of the bridge looming through the darkness, and rendered indistinctly visible by the many lights that twinkled from the windows of the lofty houses. ” “Not long ago,” she said, “you left me in anger, partly because of this exchange of identities between Annabel and myself.
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