Almost simultaneously they burst out laughing. She wondered if he was already tired of her, if he would rudely push her away as one would a prostitute. To simplify matters, he carried a coloured paper lantern upon which his license number was painted in Arabic numerals. He knew my name, and also that I had been living in Paris, and a man doesn’t risk claiming a girl for his wife, as a rule, for nothing. “You frighten me!” He smiled at her indulgently. ‘Indeed?’ Gerald grinned.
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