She felt sticky and ashamed when he dropped her off a block away from the McCloskey house as she had requested. His voice now had lost its ironies. ‘Do you not understand that I can trust no one—no one?’ ‘That is a pity,’ Gerald said, rising to face her. Probably hadn't. Wood, in a taunting tone. A lovely, fetching girl. “And as for praying for faith—this sort of monologue is about as near as any one of my sort ever gets to prayer.
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