"Where to, master?" asked Ben, touching his woollen cap. ‘Only you made me lose my temper, and—’ ‘I made you do so? Pah!’ Gerald at last succeeded in ripping the handkerchief from her grasp, and swiftly held it to her neck, oblivious to her now bloodied fingers clawing at his hand. "Ah!" he exclaimed, as the painting was turned towards him.
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