’ Gerald reached out and took her hand, enclosing it between both his own. And then she came out into the street, sure only of one thing—that she could not return directly to her lodgings. “A Socialist of the order of John Ruskin. He carried her in his arms up the steps, like a bride on her honeymoon. He went on munching his water-chestnuts, and stared at the skyline. Please to release me. Instead of English villas and cottages there were chalets and Italian-built houses shining white; there were lakes of emerald and sapphire and clustering castles, and such sweeps of hill and mountain, such shining uplands of snow, as she had never seen before. I like such interviews. My son went down after his death. He'll be able to help us a little now. Thames did not try to cheer her. The door to the room in question was closed.
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