“What a fool I am!” he muttered, standing up on the hearthrug, and leaning his elbows upon the broad mantelpiece. Brown. ‘I doubt it. This was no night for the indulgence of dreamy musing. ’ ‘But you must,’ Gerald said, quite as if he meant it. \" His brown eyes were tired and full of concern. "Bolt the wicket!" shouted Ireton, who, with the others, had been not a little entertained by the gallant turnkey's discomfiture. This is retribution.
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