"I think you're all bewitched," she cried. Gerald noted the lady’s eyes brighten as she caught sight of him making his way through the throng towards her. Such of his features as were visible were of coarse mould. Had he been trying to stop the grim descent, and had he dimly perceived that perhaps a fine deed would serve as the initial barrier? A drunken idea—a pearl in the midst of a rubbish heap. ‘What, and miss getting myself murdered?’ ‘She said she wouldn’t murder you.
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