She regarded him coldly, as though wondering whether he had anything further to say. ’ ‘I am not the imbecile you take me for,’ Gerald said with dangerous calm. ‘It is all the fault of that lantern. Anna turned round with a start, which was almost of guilt, the poker still in her hand. No, this was imbecile. Sure Mike!" At the hotel he wrote a long letter to his chief, explaining every detail of the fizzle. It was no use. Occasionally the flames would bend, twist and writhe crazily as the punka-boy bestirred himself.
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