’ ‘Undoubtedly,’ Gerald agreed. “What is the good of pretending?” she said. A fortnight passed, then a month. She inhaled a deep breath of air—London air. The asylum was approached by a broad gravel walk, leading through a garden edged on either side by a stone balustrade, and shaded by tufted trees. In his way he was critical. " "The White Hollyhock would fit her better. ‘Certainly you are imbecile. It did not cheer or fortify him with false courage and recklessness; it simply enveloped him in a mist of unreality.
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