The folds of a thick muslin neckcloth in some degree protected him, but the gash was desperate. Why can’t you let it be?’ Gerald grinned at him. 175 “Before you tell me the whole story,” she emphasized the penultimate word, “just let me do something for you. “That beast of a fellow is certain to be hanging about. She had arranged for a supper of tea, a boiled egg, and some tinned peaches.
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