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Mr. I thought then perhaps you didn’t care, that you were like so many of them. ’ ‘Damn you, I should have beaten you,’ Gerald swore, holding fast to his corner of the little square of linen. ‘I—I mean, she were—’ ‘Pretty as a picture?’ suggested Gerald. Not a word was uttered for some time, nor any sound heard except the stilled sobs of the unfortunate mother. She felt herself falling, her bile rising in her 61 throat, the cold wind spinning around her like vertigo. "What the devil are you about! Will you allow yourself to be beaten by a couple of kids?" "Not if I can help it," returned Abraham, making a desperate effort to regain his feet.
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This video was uploaded to weibaikong.com on 21-10-2024 09:28:06