“What is the good of pretending?” she said. "Remember the devil!" retorted Terence, who had recovered his natural audacity. ’ ‘Lord, man, it’s only a scratch!’ Suddenly Gerald snapped his fingers. She got up, put the neat cuffs she had made into her work-basket, and went to the bureau for the little cards in the morocco case. ” She turned her face to the fire, gripped her hands upon her elbows, and drew her thin shoulders together in a shrug. Humph.
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