The perspiration stood out upon his forehead. ’ He clenched his fists and grew red in the face. In a little while—to-morrow—all these tender, beautiful emotions will pass away, and I'll become what I was yesterday, a cynical, miserly old spinster. They were exquisite. Not fit to be dust on your boots. ’ Gerald remained infuriatingly calm. ‘Come, Hilary. He's as savage and suspicious as the devil himself. . .
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