"You poor child!" Prudence took Ruth's hands in her own. I want to get away—to go to London. ’ ‘What for?’ asked Gerald, half laughing, as he put his hand in his pocket and brought out his elegant pistol. You are—or rather you were——” he corrected himself with an unpleasant little laugh, “Miss Pellissier, eh?” A little sensation followed upon his words. She perceived that his countenance was only composed by a great effort, his features severely compressed. Books were always sliding and slipping, clumsy objects to hold. "Sounds as if I had heard it, but I can't place it this minute. ’ ‘Alas.
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