He forgot for the moment his own self-pity, the egotism of his own passionate love. “I’d rather go as a chorus-girl,” she said. This "fatal retreat for the unfortunate brave" was marked by a low wooden railing, within which stood the triple tree. Hoddy! All her fears fell away. It was a moment or two before Gerald realised that he could feel the fluttering of her pulse beneath the light touch he had on her wrist, and that her fingers were trembling in his.
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