Had he been trying to stop the grim descent, and had he dimly perceived that perhaps a fine deed would serve as the initial barrier? A drunken idea—a pearl in the midst of a rubbish heap. She remained for some seconds crouching at the fender, poker in hand. He had heard this talk before. She realized dimly that there was no personal thing behind his cry, that countless myriads of Mannings had “My God!”-ed with an equal gusto at situations as flatly apprehended. Gerald realised Lucy had taken the hint, for she dragged her betrothed towards the door. They pressed more insistently, forcing her lips open.
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