Don’t be frightened, dear. You didn’t see me fall into a swoon when you cursed just now, did you?’ ‘I’m beginning to doubt if anything less than a sledgehammer would send you into a swoon,’ Gerald retorted. " Jonathan made no answer, but motioned the partners to take him away. Imagination, coloured by the obscurity, peopled the air with phantoms. It was his redemption, his ticket out of hell—that blue-serge coat.
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