’ Speeding down the two flights of stairs, Gerald mentally thanked God that it was the practice of himself and Roding—in case of emergency, of which this was a prime example—to stable their horses at the posting inns all the way to London. I ask you, although it is not my place to ask you, to return home. It was a copy of the pencil sketch taken of him nine years ago by Winifred, and awakened a thousand tender recollections. She had been to San Francisco, and what I learned about the world was from her. Wood the carpenter.
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