’ Hilary stared. ’ She focused on Gerald’s face. On the floor was a handkerchief, a little morsel of lace. She crawled over and caught at the skirts of this white woman who understood. No wonder that Trenchard, as he gazed at this fearful being, should have some misgivings cross him. “Oh, dammit!” he remarked, “dammit!” with great bitterness as he faced it. " "I cannot repent,—I cannot pray," replied Jack, recovering his hardened demeanour.
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