They had not so far been of much personal interest to Gerald, but tonight was different. "Oh, Rollo, there are so many things I don't know! But you love me, don't you?" Rollo wagged his stump violently and tried to lick her face. Her cheeks burned for a moment or two when she reached the street, although she held her head upright and walked blithely, even humming to herself fragments of an old French song. “Anna,” she moaned, “I am a jealous, ungrateful woman.
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