Jack turned away with an aching heart. He held in his hands many threads. There's another lad at the gate waiting for him—the same who was here just now, that Sir Rowland was speaking of, who fastened up the jewelcase for her ladyship. She continued to fan herself. ‘What in God’s name do you think you’re playing at?’ ‘Let me alone, man,’ Gerald muttered under his breath. I believe you’ve crushed a gland or something.
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