"It must look sharp then, or I shall give it the slip," laughed Ben: "the gale never yet blowed as could perwent my crossing the Thames. The situation bothered him considerably. ‘Give me that!’ He took his finger away from her neck and made a grab at the handkerchief. She came in while he was still in the throes, conviction battling with commonsense, his own apprehension. Gerald smiled and excused himself with the Poussaint girl, whose mouth pinched together as she threw a dagger glance at the voluptuous Madame Valade.
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