" "I care for no risk, provided I can serve you," rejoined Sheppard. “We settled long ago—we’re hard stuff. "You do love me?" "God knows how much!" Suddenly he laid his head on her shoulder. ’ ‘Yes, a pretty theory, Lucy,’ Gerald said evenly, ‘but for one thing. You would rather live like the scum of the earth, in that little brown hovel you call a house, in bourgeois paradise. Sheila decided to do a little laundry one day, clothes that were in Lucy’s hamper, a dirty clothes bin that Lucy had insisted that she have for herself separate from the family one. Moving swiftly to the end of the corridor, he pushed open a door at random and entered a large room, which looked to have been a saloon, judging from the faded gilt and crimson wall-paper, a mirror above the fireplace which was surrounded by an ornate gilded frame, now sadly tarnished, and a worn Chippendale sofa with striped upholstery and tasselled cushions. Winifred's face had a thoroughly amiable look. “He means nothing!” She whispered loudly.
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