\"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, Shari. Thank him, not me, man. The Wastrel wiped the blood from his forehead. " "Come along," thundered Jonathan. You don't want me to spoil the story, do you?" "No. Because for the punishments je m’en moque. ’ ‘Yes, I’m sorry about that,’ Gerald uttered in a rueful tone. In the twilight he had ceased to be a person one could tackle and shame; he had become something more general, a something that crawled and sneaked toward her and would not let her alone. She rambles continually about Jack, and her husband, and that wretch Jonathan, to whom, as far as can be gathered from her wild ravings, she attributes all her misery. ‘Well?’ demanded Miss Froxfield, accepting a glass of lemonade proffered by a passing lackey.
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