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You don’t know about Mary because you live in Kent. ’ Gerald grinned. Drenched to the skin,—in fact, he had been lying in a bed of muddy water,—and chilled to the very bone, he felt so stiff, that he could scarcely move. She struggled not to be afraid. She was alone, and the mask of her unchanging high spirits was for the moment laid aside. . For was not Gerald a gentleman? An Englishman, whose services any female—excluding her own self so idiote— would be very happy to have. But why didn't you let me know they were coming. Its cavernous expanses equaled the upstairs of the house. I have been thinking—I will go to my wife again.
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