In all these weeks she had not once knelt to pray. What could she do? Reluctantly, at a second curt command, she began to step across the uncarpeted floor, her eyes never leaving the threatening pistol. She kept opening her eyes and looking at it. It was the very spot from which his poor mother had gazed after her vain attempt to rescue him at the Mint; but, though he was ignorant of this, her image was alone present to him. ’ ‘Even that he is, one must be practical. It’s—it’s a social difference. ‘Gérard will think that I have gone back to London.
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