Squads reached to the very portal of that centre of disturbance. ‘Why do you think I want a man ready to run to me with every move she makes?’ countered Gerald. A snarl contorted his features, and he marched up to it, laying his pistol down on the marquetry table so that his hands were free to grab the picture off the wall. “Thank you—for coming,” he said. The last observation, however, caught the attention of the carpenter's wife. Cursing himself for his inertness, Jack soon shook off this drowsiness, and set to work in earnest.
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