"What is this!" cried Sir Rowland. Never again would he repeat that kiss; but at night when they separated, he would touch her forehead with his lips, and sometimes he would hold her hand in his and pat it. Never for a moment had violence come between these two since long ago he had, in spite of her mother’s protest in the background, carried her kicking and squalling to the nursery for some forgotten crime. Apparently I’m not to exist yet. Gerald saw her eyes change as she recognised him. “Not to-night,” she said. He stood back, smiling with an air of proprietorship, and looking about him at the business-like equipment of the room.
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