” “I don’t care. The end of the world seemed at hand. ‘Where is Gérard?’ ‘Out of town,’ Hilary said briefly. ” “Oh!” he said, in a colorless tone, and with his eyes on her face. On a bench at the foot of the trees, with a pipe in his mouth, and a tankard by his side, sat the worthy carpenter, looking the picture of good-heartedness and benevolence. A woman may choose any one for her lover, but for her friend she makes no mistake. I feel like a fraudulent trustee. .
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