“Don’t you know, child, that this is torture for me? What in God’s name more can you have to tell me?” Her face had become almost like a marble image. Everybody, he felt, must be listening behind their papers. They were his friends, and they recognized his unusual earnestness. ’ Such simple faith touched Gerald. Flesh and blood, vivid, alluring; she was no longer the symbol, therefore she had become, as in the twinkling of an eye, an utter stranger.
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