And he hazarded a wink at the poet over the paper on which he was sketching. "Boat there!" cried a voice, which Mr. Sepulchre's. ‘But―but how can he know?’ His soldier’s instinct overtook Gerald and he dropped all his insouciance in a bang, becoming brisk. He swore that I was his wife, that chance had given me to him at last. "You frighten the cull out of his senses.
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