’ ‘Prudence,’ repeated Gerald unguardedly. Capes was irritatingly judicial in the matter, neither absurdly against, in which case one might have smashed him, or hopelessly undecided, but tepidly sceptical. "Yes, my angel, to her—rest her soul! She extorted it from me, and bound me by a solemn oath to fulfil it. You are my slave—and such you shall continue. Remember that he’s not at all a bad sort, and to speak frankly, he’s your salvation.
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