Yet you catch her eye—you can’t seem to escape from it. “Much as I hate rows, I’ve either got to make a stand or give in altogether. Before he even glanced at the man on the floor he stepped over to her side and took the poker from her. ‘I beg your pardon?’ said Gerald. "Woman, your wits are fled!" And so it seemed; for all the answer she could make was to murmur distractedly, "I can't find the key.
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