" "Farewell, Jack," cried twenty voices. “I will not have this slavery. He’s dead. "I had to give in to him. She threw hat and coat on the bed and sat down before the fire. Gerald, whose French was adequate from his military service abroad, was able to respond suitably to such remarks as the ladies addressed to him, but was less exercised by their fashionable dress than their decidedly careworn appearance. ‘Where’s the sense in running away?’ ‘Doesn’t trust me,’ Gerald said briefly. CHAPTER II.
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