Pain sliced into Gerald’s hand and his sword arm jerked. It was on the night of the Great Storm that I found him. And yet, as she rose slowly to her feet and stood looking at him with outstretched hands, a strange mixture of expressions shining in her wonderful eyes, he realized in some measure the strength of her determination, felt the utter impotence of anything which he could say to her. ‘You wish a life of obedience? So be it, Mademoiselle Charvill. It is enough to make a man throw away canvas and brushes into the bottomless precipices, enough to make one weep with despair at his utter and absolute impotence. .
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