Having accomplished his intent, Gerald let the lad go and had himself driven back to Stratton Street. “But, of course, she may have come from one of the other flats. He was perched on the very edge of the leather seat of the coach, his threecornered hat twisting nervously in his hands, and from time to time he passed a tongue over dry lips. She was carefree. "I should never have been what I am, but for you.
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