’ A trifle discomposed at being caught examining his surroundings, Gerald was provoked into retort. Faintly bothered by what it might mean, Gerald rose from his seat and crossed to the tray to pour himself a glass of wine. On the right, stood a bulky figure, with a broken rattle hanging out of his great-coat pocket, who held up a lantern to his battered countenance to prove to the spectators that both his orbs of vision were darkened: on the left, a meagre constable had divested himself of his shirt, to bind up with greater convenience a gaping cut in the arm. “No, no, no. From this perturbed state he was roused by thoughts of his mother, and fancying he heard her gentle voice urging him on to fresh exertion, he started up. ’ He clenched his fists and grew red in the face. “I think you are getting to understand me better. Manning central in her mind. " "And so Sir Rowland murdered his friend," remarked Wood.
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