When the paroxysm passed, he was forced to lean against the window-jamb for support. Behind the poet came Sir James Thornhill. She was silent, the ghost of a fading smile passed from her lips. ’ Gerald frowned in an effort of memory, and then laughed as he recalled one of the lies she had invented for his benefit. Though nearly dark, there was still light enough left to enable him to discern surrounding objects. "One'd think it rained fares, as well as blowed great guns.
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