Mrs Sindlesham’s wrinkled cheek had paled, and her eyes were fixed upon Gerald in a look that wrung his heart. At luncheon, on the third day, a thick-set man with a blue jaw smiled across his table at her. They are blinded to all fine and subtle things —they look at life with bloodshot eyes and dilated nostrils. It would be easy enough for me to write an eloquent letter about something else. "What shall I say? Shall I tell you, or shall I leave you in the dark—as I must always leave her? What shall I say except that I am accursed of men? Yes; I have loved something—her mother.
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