It shall never be said that I raised my arm willingly against a woman. “You go home and think of all this,” he said, “and talk about it to-morrow. She was about to rush to his side, when she saw his clenched hands rise and fall upon the sand repeatedly. His last actions were futile. But after all, what did it matter whether she had secrets or not? To him she was not a woman but a symbol; and one did not investigate the antecedents of symbols. Chapter Seven ‘Oh, my God,’ burst from Gerald.
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