Gerald guessed she was biting her tongue on an explosive retort as she eyed him. The act was mechanical, a bit of sparring for time: his anger was searching about for a new vent. "Good gracious! so I do," exclaimed his amiable consort. Loneliness—something that was almost physical: as if the vitality had been taken out of the air she breathed. She, however, had no idea of doing anything of the sort.
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