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‘Truth is, it’s Gerald who’s put me in the devil’s own temper, ma’am. But I will not believe you. ‘Leave it, imbecile. “That’s not. The lights of the Champs Elysées and the Place de la Concorde, suggestive, brilliant, seductive, shone like an army of fireflies against the deep cool background of the night. ‘Where’s the sense in running away?’ ‘Doesn’t trust me,’ Gerald said briefly. CHAPTER XXXII. ‘Let me see if our minds are attuned. There was a lot of that, John, a great deal of hunger.
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