Will you read to me? I am tired; and the sound of your voice makes me drowsy. And there was no intimation whatever that the blinds would ever go up or the windows or doors be opened, or the chandeliers, that seemed to promise such a blaze of fire, unveiled and furnished and lit. Who? Could it be Gerald? Quickly, she looked back at Gosse’s face, and found him frowning. But the indecision, which had been fatal to his race, was fatal to him.
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