There he was, standing with a group of men who she presumed to be the other richest men in the world. ‘This is altogether insupportable!’ She dug a hand into the recesses of the petticoat of her riding habit and a moment later Gerald found himself once again confronting the barrel of her overlarge and tarnished pistol. Let her see if she could manage this one, perhaps turn all to suit herself? ‘What do you think to do with me now?’ The captain lowered the pistol. More importantly, she had her wits. " "Of course—of course," returned Wood, hastily; "anything's better than that. 'But I don't desire to spoil sport,—not I. I could not become an Oracle. So I am already no longer the girl you knew at Morningside Park.
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