Holcroft, we may have been mistaken. ‘But who was he, Gerald?’ ‘A damned condottiere,’ exploded Gerald, forgetting his company. Ramage. The sun was rising, illuminating the trees in black as if they were drawn in ink. He was plainly attired in a riding-dress and boots of the period, and wore a hanger by his side. “Not home yet, miss,” the young man replied. ” “He seems like such a nice boy.
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