Why do you not go away?’ ‘Yes, do go away,’ begged Gerald. That would come later. Get on with it, then. She wanted to take him in her arms and hush him, but she sat perfectly still. “Call me Cathy, John. She made herself serenely unaware of his existence, though it may be it was his presence that sent her by the field detour instead of by the direct path up the Avenue. He was still flashily dressed, with much obvious jewellery and the shiniest of patent boots, but his general bearing and appearance had altered for the worse.
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