” She laughed gaily. I should be sorry if Shotbolt got the reward. ’ ‘Yes, I’m sorry about that,’ Gerald uttered in a rueful tone. What is it? Good God!” An unhappy little smile parted her lips. For was not Gerald a gentleman? An Englishman, whose services any female—excluding her own self so idiote— would be very happy to have. He—he has rather a poor opinion of his contemporaries. “I confess it. “Queer letters he writes,” she said. " "You're agitating yourself unnecessarily, Joan," returned Wood, in a soothing voice. She held out her arm straight before her, and turned her hand this way and that.
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