He did not pocket it, but sat hefting it lightly from hand to hand, watching the girl thoughtfully. “You mean to tell me” he said, “that you have a lover? While I have been keeping you! Yes—keeping you!” This view of life he hurled at her as if it were an offensive missile. Thames, you needn't tidy yourself, as you've hurt your arm. You had better go to bed. There is only Gerald to see me, after all. To be ill and helpless.
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