. ’ ‘Don’t be a little fool,’ Gerald snapped irritably. I can’t love you. ” Chapter XXXII SIX MONTHS AFTER Up the moss-grown path, where the rose bushes run wild, almost met, came Anna in a spotless white gown, with the flush of her early morning walk in her cheeks, and something of the brightness of it in her eyes. Then they rode off at speed. He was therefore obliged to use the iron bar, which he did with as much caution as circumstances would permit. Nobody who cared. She glanced into his face.
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