’ ‘What for?’ asked Gerald, half laughing, as he put his hand in his pocket and brought out his elegant pistol. He conveyed not only his sense of the extreme want of correctitude in their unsanctioned meetings, but also that, so far as he was concerned, this irregularity mattered not at all, that he had flung—and kept on flinging—such considerations to the wind. Go off and live together—until we can marry. She would write to Gerald. You would rather live like the scum of the earth, in that little brown hovel you call a house, in bourgeois paradise.
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