Get it off your soul. And me, I know very much of soldiers. “By-the-bye,” he said, presently, “your sister was married to old Ferringhall the other day, wasn’t she? I saw the notice in the papers. ‘She won’t confide in you? Now, why?’ ‘Because that scoundrel Leonardo drummed it into her head that no man was to be trusted,’ Gerald announced viciously. He had heard me sing—the fool thought himself in love with me. Spurlock stepped into the room.
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