‘Well, I can see you won’t let it alone, so what do you propose to do about the wench?’ ‘I’ll die before I let it alone,’ Gerald vowed. If you owe your confinement to me, you shall owe your liberation to me, also. He mumbled an apology and then stopped short. "He's not my son," rejoined the carpenter. “Is your husband here to-night?” he asked. ‘I assure you it was mutual.
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