*** Madame la Comtesse de St Erme regarded the English major with a lacklustre eye, Gerald thought. He turned the wheel carefully as he touched her neck with the other, threading her soft curls in between his slim fingers. There were perches inside where she could crouch and labyrinths underneath where she could hide. “And yet you still live, Butterfly. Spurling: "I blush for you, Sir! To call yourself a man, and interfere with the natural course of affection! Have you no feeling for the situation of those poor disconsolate creatures, about to be bereaved of all they hold dear? Is it nothing to part with a husband to the gallows? I've lost four in the same way, and know what it is. ’ She was too distressed to bear this. Not these twenty year. It feels like it. ’ He reddened a little, and shuffled his feet.
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