Now, it was a wilderness of weeds. But we have got to talk upon indifferent themes until we have done with this blond young gentleman from Bavaria. ’ She turned and swept away from him, pacing the length of the room to the window Gerald had unshuttered. " "There you're wrong, Mr. Your laugh reminds me of—of——" "Whose, Sir?" demanded Jackson, becoming suddenly grave. \" \"May Day. .
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