‘That—that—why do you speak of him?’ ‘Because I feel you ought to know,’ Gerald said calmly, but rising and watching her closely, ‘that all your trouble may be in vain. She could think of nothing more to say. ‘Hilary, thank God! Have you a pistol about you? Or better yet, your sword. Now, as she stared at the image of her own face, she recalled something Major Alderley had said. You understand. McClintock wrote me about you; but all I needed was the sight of your face as it was a moment gone. The bridesmaids and pages got rather jumbled in the aisle, and she had an effect of Alice’s white back and sloping shoulders and veiled head receding toward the altar.
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