‘Give me my pistol!’ Gerald shook his head, slipping the pistol into his pocket. " The poor widow hung her head, and pressed her child closer to her breast. He would raise her up once again, ply her with silks and jewels again, all of the accoutrements of the new generation: the cars, the toys, the restaurants, and the prestige. This was the first young man who had drawn from her something more than speculative interest. \"Sure, but you'll have to call from my Mom and Dad's room. Me, you may have.
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