“Dear me,” she said, “I fancy you exaggerate my fame. \" He piped up. ’ ‘I am not the imbecile you take me for,’ Gerald said with dangerous calm. ‘Dear me. ‘What are you going to do now, Gerald?’ He sipped his wine and shrugged. ‘You seem to understand the gentry very well. But I must—I ought—” “I MUST talk about this. Wood, I forget nothing. She tried to think how people get work.
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