Having accomplished his intent, Gerald let the lad go and had himself driven back to Stratton Street. ‘Gerald Alderley, I don’t know what you deserve. “It was the night you left Paris. "Bolt the wicket!" shouted Ireton, who, with the others, had been not a little entertained by the gallant turnkey's discomfiture. "You will find it true," replied Blueskin.
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