“Oh, that. All men are bloody fucking hypocrites. “I’ve got bad faults. ’ ‘What?’ Appalled, Gerald could only gaze at her. She was curious to know why he had boarded a dingy train instead of hailing a cab or his own private chauffeur like the others in expensive suits were doing. It cuts. If the young ladies were dowerless, which seemed likely, their attire at least—so Lucilla assured him in a whisper—was of the first stare. Their conversation was conducted in the flash language, and, though unintelligible to Wood, was easily comprehended by this companion, who learnt, to her dismay, that the wounded man had received his hurt from her son, whose courage and dexterity formed the present subject of their discourse. The flight. \"What about scholarships?\" \"Can't get 'em if your parents are rich. My friend, I am only grieved that you of all others should have been so deceived. That was life. Cursing himself for his inertness, Jack soon shook off this drowsiness, and set to work in earnest.
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