He looked like the shadow of himself—thin, feeble, hollow-eyed—his beard unshorn—nothing could be more miserable. “I shall send for a policeman,” Anna said, “directly my maid answers the bell— unless you choose to go before. She was not altogether surprised when she found a deer, gutted of its entrails and strung with a garland of flowers, on the cave’s doorstep one humid summer morning. By chance I went to one who had known you in Paris. What need had she of Gerald, or anyone? Yet, if he was here, would he not make some foolish game with her and make her laugh? Instead of behaving in this fashion so stupide, and crying, crying, crying. “I cannot keep silence any longer. '—'They can't,' says I.
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