’ He reached into an inner pocket of his coat and brought out a packet of papers. ’ *** It must have been fate, Gerald decided, near an hour later, staring intently at the closed French windows on the raised alcove that led out to the terrace. He dodged the boot this time, and smashed his left upon the Wastrel's lips, leaving them bloody pulp. Do not let her think worse of me than I deserve,—or even so ill. But she had not reckoned with the etiquette of Canongate. 1.
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