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‘But who was he, Gerald?’ ‘A damned condottiere,’ exploded Gerald, forgetting his company. "Oh! never mind him: he'll take no harm! Come with me into the parlour. ” She laughed gaily. He was angry. "Woman, your wits are fled!" And so it seemed; for all the answer she could make was to murmur distractedly, "I can't find the key. “Sort of man who can see no further than his nose,” he remarked contemptuously.
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