He was damned if he knew what to do. Gerald kicked the panelled wall in frustration. Not up here, I think. Then came the cable that you were in Canton, ill, but not dangerously so. “You belong to me,” he said fiercely; “the marriage certificate is in my pocket. ” So they talked on whilst supper was served, falling easily into the spirit of the place, and yet both of them conscious of some new thing underlying the gaiety of their tongues and manner.
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