’ ‘Lord,’ Gerald murmured, awed more by the outspokenness of his hostess than by what she had said. Wild in my presence! He's the right-hand of the community! We could do nothing without him!" "We!" repeated Wood, significantly. She lunched at a creamery in Great Portland Street, and as the day was full of wintry sunshine, spent the rest of the lunch-hour in a drowsy gloom, which she imagined to be thought upon the problems of her position, on a seat in Regent’s Park. Weeks hurled past, weeks that turned into months.
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