’ Obediently, Gerald rose and walked to the other end of the parlour. He looked up to see an ancient coach making its ponderous way down the street. This time they would call it murder. "I don't deserve it," he said, at length; "but I would have risked a thousand deaths to enjoy this moment's happiness. She was lamentably without comparisons; such few young men as she had seen—white men—had been on the beach, pitiful and terrible objects.
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