" "Stand off, Poll," rejoined the woollen-draper; "I don't want to hurt you. She gently placed the car back upon the ground. ‘But who was he, Gerald?’ ‘A damned condottiere,’ exploded Gerald, forgetting his company. She went about, intentlooking and self-possessed, trim and fine, concealing her emotions whatever they were, as the realities of her position opened out before her.
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