A buxom piece, who looked, Gerald decided, as if she would be more at home in an amorous engagement in a hayloft than sitting demurely in a ballroom. The place pulsed with music too loud to converse above. It isn't as if he were stricken with typhoid or pneumonia or something like that. Blotted out—Love! With infinite care, through nearly a thousand pages, her father had obliterated the word Love. " "Why, surely you don't think your guests would steal them," observed Rachel, archly. ’ She turned and swept away from him, pacing the length of the room to the window Gerald had unshuttered. Time enough for Gosse to shut her mouth forever, as he did not hesitate to point out to her. . . "So it appears," replied Marvel. "You open it, Ruth.
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