“Don’t befool me any more,” he answered, almost roughly. Suspicion was in his face. “Just forget it, Lucy! Keep your secrets to yourself!” He stomped out, slamming the heavily paneled oak door. Her voice was soft and singularly musical; but from time to time she uttered old-fashioned words which forced him to grope mentally. One day it was gone. ‘Precisely,’ agreed Gerald. She looked around the apartment for other people. He never retires to rest till daybreak—if at all. A sprinkling of callow youths, and a couple of pronounced young Jews, who were talking loudly together in some unintelligible jargon of the City. .
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