Brendon. “Shari told me. “You poor little girl!” he cried. ‘Ain’t my place, I know that. “It was inevitable,” he declared. ‘You are, I think, a gentleman, no?’ Gerald bowed. A fire enveloped her, a fire which was strangely healing, filling her heart with warmth, blotting out the menace of the world. Above the housetops it was different. The man who sat behind a pigeon-hole, and regulated the comings and goings, was for a moment absent. She thought of Sebastian who often returned from the charnel house that the outside world had become. " He offered cigars, and Ruth got up. No, never mind about thanking me.
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