‘Do you not understand that I can trust no one—no one?’ ‘That is a pity,’ Gerald said, rising to face her. ‘How did you know that Mary was his daughter?’ Gerald hesitated. I could not have spoken to her. The houses were older, the shops gloomier, and the thoroughfare narrower, it is true; but the bustle, the crowd, the street-like air was the same. . \"Shouldn't you be in bed? You go into work at 5:30, I thought.
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