" "But I'm a poor man. He had got here at speed by that means. The pole-chair caravan resumed its journey. Her eyes were lit with smouldering passion. ‘Lord,’ Gerald uttered, his inexplicable annoyance evaporating. Then, even as they stood there, the room was plunged into darkness. She walked down the station approach, past the neat, obtrusive offices of the coal merchant and the house agent, and so to the wicket-gate by the butcher’s shop that led to the field path to her home.
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