’ ‘Poor little devil,’ said Gerald, genuinely sorry for her. “You are the most perfect, the most glorious of created things—tender, frank intellectual, brave, beautiful. Away in London even now Capes was packing and preparing; Capes, the magic man whose touch turned one to trembling fire. ” She glared at him balefully. And now, when you come at last, you bring me this grandfather, and you dare to tell me I am like him.
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