He looked at her with an expression of comical despair. ‘You have no idea how dull the militia is compared to the Army. Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples, for I am sick of love. As for this infatuation—it’s like some obsession, some magic thing laid upon you. I too can see it. Pearls in the dawn light, flashing and burning! "You don't like your island?" "I hate it!… But, there!"—weariness edging in. " And he pointed significantly to the hand. ” “No,” she moaned, “not that. This is not true at all. Gerald realised Lucy had taken the hint, for she dragged her betrothed towards the door. He had an air of having told her a deep, personal secret. “You are really a good Samaritan,” she declared.
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