‘My papa he does not wish me to marry the man I choose, and thus he places me in the convent that the nuns may lock me up and I cannot escape. What was he doing? What was he thinking? It was less than a day now, less than twenty hours. Gerald, whose French was adequate from his military service abroad, was able to respond suitably to such remarks as the ladies addressed to him, but was less exercised by their fashionable dress than their decidedly careworn appearance. "I must tell you," she was saying. A fresh cool breeze blew in their faces.
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