‘While you are making me this interrogation, my poor Jacques bleeds to death. Such freedoms from such people were not to be endured. He had set out to win her, and she had let him start. ’ Gerald frowned. Her eyes glistened in the darkness—for light was only admitted through a small grated window—like flames, and, as she fixed them on him, their glances seemed to penetrate his very soul. “I refuse.
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