’ ‘Damn you, I should have beaten you,’ Gerald swore, holding fast to his corner of the little square of linen. Again the chalky pallor spread even to her lips, her eyes became lit with the old terror. It is a plain case of alcoholic stupor. Gerald, meanwhile, was off hunting up these lawyers, together with your son, ma’am—’ turning to Mrs Sindlesham ‘—and you know the outcome of that.
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