She walked with an easy quickness down the Avenue and through the proletarian portion of Morningside Park, and crossing these fields came into a pretty overhung lane that led toward Caddington and the Downs. John picked it up and put it in her hands. One morning he caught her hand suddenly and kissed it. ‘Yes, ma’am,’ agreed Gerald with a grin. She read on and on, now thrilled by the swiftly moving drama, now enraptured by the tender passages of love. She was lovely, painted like the porcelain doll he had always wanted her to be.
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