“Eight pounds,” she plunged, and added foolishly, “fifteen pounds will see me clear of everything. ‘But who was he, Gerald?’ ‘A damned condottiere,’ exploded Gerald, forgetting his company. you did what you had to do. On the bench was set a quartern measure of gin, a crust of bread, and a slice of cheese. I came to beg you instead to do me the honour of becoming my wife. I’m sorry to disappoint you. The natural gaiety of the place seemed to have affected them both.
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