He flung himself backwards, hit the dais and fell heavily before the altar, losing his low-crowned beaver. ’ ‘Also stealing,’ added Gerald, with a gesture at the clothes on the bed. “I think this ends the business,” he said, turning to his sister. Then her white teeth gleamed, and her excuse for remaining any longer before that little marble table was gone. Here was no crooked soul; a little weak perhaps, impulsive beyond common, but fundamentally honest. For a few days she was fascinated by the place, exploring the moldy rooms, the weird treasures hiding in forgotten trousseaus. Idleness is the key of beggary, Jack. Wood. I wanted to, that day in the Zoo. She had prepared herself to meet violent protest, a recurrence of that burning glance.
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