Her bonnet dropped off and was trampled into the gutter. The white veil had fallen to the ground and Gerald retrieved it for her. Here, indeed, was a type with which he had never until now come into contact—a natural woman. “There,” he said, “you don’t treat me fairly, Miss Stanley. You wanted to play a lone hand. "Have a little patience, Sir," rejoined the jailer. Ramage demurred.
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