’ The old man simply stared at her. He smiled grandly; she could feel the radiance of his approval from across the wedding table. ‘I don’t propose doing anything with you. ’ Triumph soared in Gerald’s chest. “I will put the question,” Drummond said gravely. She had a horrible glimpse of the once nice little old lady being also borne stationward, still faintly battling and very muddy—one lock of grayish hair straggling over her neck, her face scared, white, but triumphant. He was always visualizing the Hand whenever he let his gaze rest upon the horizon.
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