‘Give me my pistol!’ Gerald shook his head, slipping the pistol into his pocket. The cloth was removed, and Wood, drawing the table as near the window as possible—for it was getting dusk —put on his spectacles, and opened that sacred volume from which the best consolation in affliction is derived, and left the lovers—for such they may now be fairly termed—to their own conversation. ‘Lover’s tiff indeed. We were hunting and were separated from the rest of the hunters, so I said, ‘There are ways for a man to escape his wife where no one is harmed.
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