There was the cottage she had inhabited for so many years,—in those fields she had rambled,—at that church she had prayed. It was horrible, but what could she do? She meant to live her own life, and he meant, with contempt and insults, to prevent her. It wouldn't do to say that she was from the hospital. ‘Why does this person say you are mad?’ ‘Because I am risking having my head blown off,’ Gerald answered cheerfully.
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