"Poor Jack!" cried Winifred, burying her face in her lover's bosom. So far he had not stirred; from his bloodless lips had come no sound. ‘How the deuce did she get out without me seeing her?’ ‘Took advantage of the distraction, cunning little devil,’ Gerald snapped, racing down the corridor. ‘But I’m hanged if I know why you find it so amusing. ” “It would suit me. As for loving you, I do. " "Poor soul!" ejaculated her son.
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