“You know I’m old-fashioned, Miss Stanley. Do you think I would marry you? Rather would I marry the pig in the convent. The struggles of the wounded man were desperate—so desperate, that in his agony he overset the table, and, in the confusion, tore off the cloth, and disclosed a face horribly mutilated, and streaming with blood. ’ ‘Nothing of the sort,’ Gerald said calmly, sipping at his burgundy. Agreeably he helped her take the shirt off. “I suppose he’s frightfully clever,” said Miss Klegg.
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