’ ‘Yes, she duped me finely,’ agreed Gerald. Aroused by the sound of the church bells, he resolved, at whatever risk, to attend Divine service. He stirred continually, thrusting his legs about and flinging his arms above his head. Her secret thoughts made some hasty, half-hearted excursions into the possibility of telling the thing in romantic tones—Ramage was as a black villain, she as a white, fantastically white, maiden. Teenage boys never change, she thought to herself. Very well, I give up.
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