‘She wants me to marry her. Barleycorn had sent to the mat for the count of nine: unless the young fool's daddy had a bundle of coin. She’ll tell everyone soon, if only to gain herself some attention!” He cried under his breath. He was mad. Jonathan gave utterance to a low whistle. A sarcastic smile seemed to play upon the chief-taker's lips; and abashed at his own irresolution, the lad went on. Flinging her back against it, she put her hands out, barring his way. ’ Gerald hissed in a doubtful breath.
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