‘It is you who is the fool,’ she threw at him, whipping round again. Besides, Gerald would not for the world have passed up the chance of a little excitement. Sir John followed her gaze, and also saw them. The cloth was removed, and Wood, drawing the table as near the window as possible—for it was getting dusk —put on his spectacles, and opened that sacred volume from which the best consolation in affliction is derived, and left the lovers—for such they may now be fairly termed—to their own conversation. The few whites he had ever known generally offered to pet him when they really wanted to kick him.
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