"Iss, Massa. ’ ‘In any event,’ Gerald told her, with a grin, ‘I can’t marry this one. Her back had stiffened, and her hazel eyes looked steadfastly ahead. “For one thing, Anna,” she remarked, “we had not the slightest idea that you had left, or were leaving Paris. Diedermeyer, sweetheart? He just went in.
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