’ With pretty imperiousness, she gestured to the bed beside her. Gerald grinned. She opened it and imbibed. “If you say so, Lucy. ‘Monsieur Charvill thought perhaps that his daughter would find not a welcome. A dozen books lay upon the counterpane. He uttered one word over and over, monotonously: "Fool! … Fool!" But invariably the touch of Ruth's hand quieted him, and his head would cease to roll from side to side. Fritz sang for her sometimes, for Fritz could sing even before he was able to form words.
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