You know the sort of thing. Cursing under his breath, Gerald moved swiftly across and dragged her away. "I'll be their substitute. "You soon shall," rejoined Sheppard. ’ He frowned again. She answered him almost coldly. "Let him remain," interposed Trenchard. ’ ‘I’m that sorry, miss,’ Kimble said glumly. But he was now too deeply moved to trace a certain unsatisfactoriness to its source in a mixture of metaphors. Something insisted that those two were mysteriously linked—that the woman knew the man was there.
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