Gerald watched her vanish into the darkness, unusually incensed. He thought, too, of the fretful invalid who lay in the next room to his, whose money had created his business and made his position in the world. ’ ‘But what do you want it for, miss?’ ‘But to protect myself. I know my son's voice too well. ” She sat motionless, with her hand tightening over the edge of the table, and he, too, said no more. "All life is a muddle, and we are all muddlers, more or less.
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