A sob was strangled in her throat. ‘Don’t even think of it,’ warned Gerald, in the voice generally reserved for his men. Imagine her, putting herself to all this delay and inconvenience for a young wastrel she did not know and who, the moment he got on his feet, would doubtless pass out of her life without so much as Thank you! And it was ten to one that she would not comprehend the ingratitude. Remember?’ ‘Parbleu,’ came from his still struggling victim. I spend many delightful hours thinking of the pleasant and beautiful things of life. They were those of the Irish watchman. They had much to talk about, or rather Miss Prudence had.
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