He was really very proud of her, and extraordinarily angry and resentful at the innocent and audacious selfreliance that seemed to intimate her sense of absolute independence of him, her absolute security without him. The boiling under her stern, however, told him nothing. A single false step might have precipitated him into the street; or, if he had trodden upon an unsound part of the roof, he must have fallen through it. ‘Comment? What do you say?’ Gerald looked down into her face, and found himself touched by the uncertainty he saw there.
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