“I have made over seven hundred pounds in the last week,” he said. There was a mad musician, seemingly rapt in admiration of the notes he was extracting from a child's violin. ’ ‘Poor little devil,’ said Gerald, genuinely sorry for her. " CHAPTER XI. More than half the city perished. Ennison roused himself with an effort, took a long drink from his whisky and soda, and lit a cigarette.
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