“An uncle in New York is dead, and has left him loads of money. ‘Only perhaps I can more readily do so if you will put down that pistol. ’ ‘Damn you, I should have beaten you,’ Gerald swore, holding fast to his corner of the little square of linen. ‘I do not steal,’ declared the lady hotly. He had informed her that to leave him would be a choice to live a life of meager subsistence. ‘Well, shan’t I come to the major’s house up Stratton Street, sir?’ ‘I’ll give the major your report, Trodger. "I have nothing to forgive.
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