She shivered, more due to his presence than the changing weather. . . She flung herself back into the bare little room, cold, empty, comfortless. Gerald took Madame’s hand and kissed the fingers with a little more warmth than punctilio demanded. " The Wastrel rushed. I want my freedom. They were both conscious, however, that something had intervened between them. This double buffetting had sharpened her shrewdness and insight. It was if the world had blinked out for a moment.
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