2. ’ ‘Lord,’ Gerald murmured, awed more by the outspokenness of his hostess than by what she had said. " "My son!" echoed the widow, trembling. His shouts for help were answered by roars of mockery and laughter. We’re regarded as inflammable litter that mustn’t be left about. She kept thinking she was thinking about Mr. And she buried herself beneath the straw, which she tossed above her head with the wildest gestures.
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