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’ Chapter Five ‘Now then, young Jack,’ Gerald said, turning to the lad, who was sitting in the place lately vacated by his self-appointed mistress, but in a state of far less relaxation. I—I am a lovesick idiot, and not accountable for my actions. She was lamentably without comparisons; such few young men as she had seen—white men—had been on the beach, pitiful and terrible objects. "Have a moment's patience, Sir Rowland," returned Wild; "and you shall hear. “Who is the tenant of these rooms?” he inquired.
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