CHAPTER XVIII. He—he has rather a poor opinion of his contemporaries. "Coupling their presence with Jack's speech, I couldn't help fearing some mischief might ensue. It was scarcely likely that she would have accepted his aid. But—but how?’ ‘Can you write?’ Gerald asked, digging into one of his capacious pockets and bringing out a leather ring purse. Michelle seemed so innocent and sweet. A cold shiver came over her. "Zounds! what's that!" he cried, as the noise of a scuffle was heard behind them. His gaze remained steady on the old dame’s face, as he thought about it.
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