Shy, grateful in her loneliness for this unexpected attention, she had listened. ‘But who was he, Gerald?’ ‘A damned condottiere,’ exploded Gerald, forgetting his company. In the twilight he had ceased to be a person one could tackle and shame; he had become something more general, a something that crawled and sneaked toward her and would not let her alone. " "No feelings of consanguinity shall stay my vengeance," said Thames, sternly. "Back!" he cried fiercely. "Get ready your heaviest irons, Austin.
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