" "Is she alive?" repeated the widow. How did you get your luggage out of the house? Wasn’t it—wasn’t it rather in some respects—rather a lark? It’s one of my regrets for my lost youth. Dieu du ciel! Gerald was kissing her! She struggled to be free, and the arms that held her loosened, the lips leaving hers. Marvel held her handkerchief to her eyes, and appeared in great distress. Later, when they returned home, she would serve as the topic of many conversations. In the subdued light she could not tell whether he was asleep or awake.
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