“Forgive me,” he decided to say at last, and his voice had a little quiver of emotion, and he laid his hand on hers upon her knee. She was carefree. Finally she decided upon a step that had always seemed reasonable to her, but that hitherto she had, from motives too faint for her to formulate, refrained from taking. Barring that the Valade fellow had sneaked back. “I thought you wanted to have a talk to me,” she said. “How I am to earn enough sous for my dinner to-morrow—or failing that, what I can sell. ‘You dare to come to me? What do you wish of me? Why have you come? I do not want you!’ She swept round on Gerald abruptly and he braced for the onslaught. "My lips would belie my heart were I to refuse you. But, urged by his wife's cries, who was more anxious for the preservation of her child's life than her own, he snatched up the infant, and made his escape from the back of the premises. She told her husband that she wished her nothing more than her own death. Her cheeks flushed a dull red. There is so little abandon, so little real joyousness.
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