‘What in Hades d’ye mean, thanks to me? Want to blame anyone, blame that rapscallion who calls himself your father. "I do," replied Jack, carelessly. ‘No, you don’t. Supper was over. ‘We may have to,’ Gerald answered thoughtfully, staring at the window to one side. "Why do you laugh?" she asked gravely. With a swirl of her floral chintz petticoats, she placed herself in the capacious window seat, accepted the glass Gerald handed to her, and smiled mischievously up at him.
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