’ ‘Now why didn’t I make that connection?’ Gerald asked of the air in a tone of regret. The gallant woollen-draper was now in his thirty-sixth year. Listen. ‘But for how long?’ Lady Bicknacre asked apprehensively. Her birthday was four months away, and that, at its extremist point, might give her another five pounds. The thought of you, wandering from pillar to post, believing yourself hunted—it tore my old heart to pieces! For I knew you. I have taken bullets and lived, and even a silver one wouldn’t do much.
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