‘What in God’s name do you think you’re playing at?’ ‘Let me alone, man,’ Gerald muttered under his breath. " "Only three days," reiterated the widow, "three short short days,—and then all is over. She had to school herself to speak the words which she knew would cut him like a knife. If you knew your aunt were alive, if she expected you, that would be different. She had done forever with the Age of Chivalry, and her own base adaptations of its traditions to the compromising life.
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