‘That—that—why do you speak of him?’ ‘Because I feel you ought to know,’ Gerald said calmly, but rising and watching her closely, ‘that all your trouble may be in vain. She hoped that he would at long last remember his young male pride. The Wastrel, his eyes full of humorous evil, stood inside the room. She silently willed him to stop his pacing, to calm down. The fellow Kimble, to whom Gerald was indebted, was gaping. "As sure as one reasonably can be. " "Help me, Jack!" shouted Thames, "or I shan't be able to keep the villain down. His shirt was unfastened, his vest unbuttoned, his hose ungartered; his feet were stuck into a pair of pantoufles, his arms into a greasy flannel dressing-gown, his head into a thrum-cap, the cap into a tie-periwig, and the wig into a gold-edged hat. The pouting cherry lips were slightly parted and the very faintest of panting breaths, together with the quick rise and fall of an alluring bosom, betrayed her fear.
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