"Quite sorry, my good friend, there should have been any misunderstanding between us," observed the woollen-draper. He heard me; but he never came in to ask what was the matter. Gerald raised his cockaded hat, and smiled. The same look she had often seen in the eyes of the drunken beachcombers her father had brought home, and it had not filled her with horror. " "What for? What do you want of them?" "Why, they are … yours.
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