‘Lord,’ Gerald uttered, his inexplicable annoyance evaporating. She was retuning, fifths spilling from the sliver of light underneath the door like milk. Your lamented mother, whose loss I shall ever deplore, perceived my passion and encouraged it. 155 The ringing doorbell jarred her from her stupor. We have a great deal to discuss, you and I. My heart would speak if it could, for it is very full. .
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