\"I don't eat lunch. She was sorry for his liking her too much for his own good, but her need was too desperate to cavil at turning it to useful account. In the present case it did not matter, as there was no one else within earshot. The drawers at the moment were too busy to attend to her, and she would have seized the opportunity of examining, unperceived, the assemblage within, through a little curtained window that overlooked the adjoining chamber, if an impediment had not existed in the shape of Baptist Kettleby, whose portly person entirely obscured the view. But, bloodan'-'ouns! man, if ould Nick himself were to hit me a blow, I'd be afther givin' him another. ’ ‘Damn you, I should have beaten you,’ Gerald swore, holding fast to his corner of the little square of linen.
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