"Why do you laugh?" she asked gravely. Nothing anyone could say or do would change him. “I suppose, Mr. But—but how?’ ‘Can you write?’ Gerald asked, digging into one of his capacious pockets and bringing out a leather ring purse. " And, walking up to the animals, which were chained to the wall, they instantly recognised him, and suffered the others to pass without barking. ‘You ain’t got nothing on me. Presently he resumed: “I believe I must be in love. .
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