"I don't think that's likely. What need had she of Gerald, or anyone? Yet, if he was here, would he not make some foolish game with her and make her laugh? Instead of behaving in this fashion so stupide, and crying, crying, crying. There's a man dying—Captain Darrell. “Why on earth did you TELL me?” he cried. "Well, Mr. On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha.
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