Bought the freedom of a sing-song girl; and all the while you knew you'd have to tote the girl back. His conscience, however, was entirely another affair. For the face under her gaze she could find but one expression—fine. I loitered in the shop as you chatted with the butcher’s girl. She listened with growing apprehension to the tale that Gerald told, omitting any mention of pistols and daggers, and at the end delivered herself of various expletives highly unsuited to a lady of her advanced years. You’ve got me.
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