‘You would read my mind?’ Gerald was pretty certain he already had, but he did not say so. Though he walked by the side of the governor, he seldom exchanged a word with him, but appeared wholly absorbed in the contemplations inspired by a broadbowled Dutch pipe. \"I'm going to his baseball game, he's pitching for Lincoln, and then I believe he is taking me to dinner. But you belong to me—and I want you. It was Ramage, the occupant of the big house at the end of the Avenue. Nothing is of any concern of ours except the discovery of the man’s identity. Many’s the young ’un I’ve seen get hisself into just such a knuckleheaded mess all on account of a pretty wench. I have only just left Wych Street.
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