Pshaw!" added he, making an effort to subdue his emotion, "I can't leave you in this way. You know very well that you took from my easel David Courtlaw’s study of me, and sent it to Cariolus. Treat me as an elder brother, if you like. ‘But who was he, Gerald?’ ‘A damned condottiere,’ exploded Gerald, forgetting his company. Fortunately, the window was not far from the ground; so opening it gently, he dropped into a backyard, and from thence got into the street. ‘But, Gérard—’ ‘Don’t start arguing,’ he said in a tone that brooked no defiance. " The doctor sent her a sharp, quizzical glance. I must have something in hand. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property (trademark/copyright) agreement.
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