‘Whither away, mademoiselle?’ he said grimly, ungently grasping her arm above the elbow. What of Gosse, whom those soldiers had allowed to escape? Hiding—or perhaps gone. "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. Outside the post-office stood a nohatted, blond young man in gray flannels, who was elaborately affixing a stamp to a letter. ” “All these things,” he muttered bitterly, “this desperate resolve to take your life into your own hands, your unnatural craving for independence, would never trouble you for a moment—if you really cared. ‘This is insupportable.
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