Sorrow lay in the back of his mind as he withdrew, but he put it aside. ’ ‘Yes, she duped me finely,’ agreed Gerald. But I shan't let him off thus. And, lastly, to the Seven Cities o' Refuge, in the New Mint. "Utterly," reiterated Jack, gloomily,—"as regards all I hold dear. No hair to fall awry, no powder to displace, no ruffles to crush; men are lucky. She was consumed by misery and hate.
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