Gerald raised his cockaded hat, and smiled. She felt her own body stir, ready for more. The same look she had often seen in the eyes of the drunken beachcombers her father had brought home, and it had not filled her with horror. He was bringing the sing-song girl to the hotel! The strange cortège presently vanished below the window-sill. If a cart were coming, or those labourers in the field had heard, escape was impossible. Let me take the satchel, sir.
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