‘Do you not understand that I can trust no one—no one?’ ‘That is a pity,’ Gerald said, rising to face her. Outside the post-office stood a nohatted, blond young man in gray flannels, who was elaborately affixing a stamp to a letter. " So saying, he unlocked the door and strode out of the room. “Anna, you are the dearest, bravest sister in the world,” she cried.
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