"Gracious Heaven!" exclaimed the knight, upon whom a light seemed suddenly to break. "You mistake,—you are mine. I love your very breath. You make yourself charming for help. I can wield a quarterstaff as well as a prize-fighter, and have beaten Figg himself at the broadsword. He went into the study and sat down at his table, but not to write. Her mind left her. I know very well Gerald has been fishing for information about that girl, and I am determined to find out what he knows.
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