’ ‘You little fiend,’ exclaimed Gerald wrathfully. He had not been successful as the world counted success; the fat bank-account, the filled waiting room of which he had once dreamed, had never materialized except in the smoke of his evening pipe. It towered up high above the level of the pass, thousands of feet, still, shining, and white, and below, thousands of feet below, was a floor of little woolly clouds. Still, thereafter she had avoided Morgan's; partly out of fear and partly because of her father's mandate. ” She came closer.
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