"I had to give in to him. He wore a French military undress of the period, with high jack-boots, and a laced hat; and, though his attire indicated no particular rank, he had completely the air of a person of distinction. “You are a dear,” she exclaimed affectionately. Indeed I must. ’ ‘No, of course you could not,’ Gerald soothed. " "My death will lie at your door," remarked Jackson to the carpenter. Truth to tell, more damage had been done in the enthusiastic chase carried out by the militiamen detailed to catch it.
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