Gerald watched her perambulations in silence, his heart wrung. He forgot for the moment his own self-pity, the egotism of his own passionate love. Master Thames Ditton, I'll do your biddin'; and you, Misther Quilt Arnold, may do your worst, I defy you. Was the young lady impatient for experience? Was she adventurous? As a man of the world he did not think it becoming to accept maidenly calm as anything more than a mask. “Limp,” he answered. His sword-arm fell useless at his side and she knew herself safe.
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