But men of the Spurlock type, who walk straight, who are unobtrusive and intensely pale, they break swiftly and inexplicably. “I ought to look up Gwen,” she said. "So that was it? And what the devil are you doing here, moping alone on the beach? Why aren't you with her in this hour of bitterness?" "What can I do?" "You can go to her and take her in your arms. I cannot be intimate—’ stressing the word with a deep look ‘— with one I feel to be a stranger. ’ She had given nothing away. ’ Dieu du ciel, but she was a fool.
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