For was not Gerald a gentleman? An Englishman, whose services any female—excluding her own self so idiote— would be very happy to have. ” She looked at him doubtfully. The windows were small, and strongly grated, looking, in front, on Kendrick Yard, and, at the back, upon the spacious burial-ground of Saint Giles's Church. ‘But for now, I’m taking you home. She had but to choose.
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