She turned back to Gerald, holding out her hand. A new inexplicable madness that urged him to shrill ironically the story of his coat—to take it off and fling it at the feet of any stranger who chanced to be nigh. It’s one of our conventional superstitions. " "Faithful fellow!" murmured Jack. Hastening along the passage he came to the sixth door. ” He said flaccidly. ‘I’m taking you to Gerald, my girl. " "No doubt, my dear," acquiesced the carpenter, "no doubt.
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