" "By Heaven!" cried Kneebone, with increasing fervour, "it is true—as true as my affection for you. ‘She won’t confide in you? Now, why?’ ‘Because that scoundrel Leonardo drummed it into her head that no man was to be trusted,’ Gerald announced viciously. Baptist Kettleby (for so was the Master named) was a "goodly portly man, and a corpulent," whose fair round paunch bespoke the affection he entertained for good liquor and good living.
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