‘Odd sort of a nun. "Arrest!" "Jigger closed!" shouted a hoarse voice in reply. ’ Gerald frowned in an effort of memory, and then laughed as he recalled one of the lies she had invented for his benefit. The real tragedy—which he sensed and toward which he was always reaching—eluded all his verbal skill. Red velvet curtains rustled under dim lights as the door shut with a heavy snap. Be honest, and you will be happy. “Tell me,” he said; “speak to me.
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