When she occupied, it, it was neatness itself; the little porch was overrun with creepers—the garden trim and exquisitely kept. ’ ‘I swear to you, it is the exact truth,’ he protested. It was a moment or two before Gerald realised that he could feel the fluttering of her pulse beneath the light touch he had on her wrist, and that her fingers were trembling in his. "Mother!" cried the son, "help!" "What is this?" shrieked Lady Trafford, raising herself on the couch, and extending her hands towards him.
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