"Won't you be persuaded, Joan?" he added, making a similar offer to Mrs. . ’ ‘I am afraid that there is,’ Gerald told her evenly. The blast once more swept over the agitated river: whirled off the sheets of foam, scattered them far and wide in rain-drops, and left the raging torrent blacker than before. Luckily I’m not. She took a shower after a particularly harsh volleyball debacle only to find that her locker had been picked and her outfit of the day, gray sweatpants and a shapeless pink sweater, were gone. Mrs Sindlesham’s wrinkled cheek had paled, and her eyes were fixed upon Gerald in a look that wrung his heart. She was pensive and thoughtful.
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