‘I’m taking you to Gerald, my girl. He called here on his way back, after he had been to Bedlam to visit poor Mrs. Cocking the gun. It was such an unexpected stroke of fortune. At last she glanced at a little clock in the corner of the room, and sprang to her feet. Usually his charges bored him with their interrogative chatter, for he knew that his information more often than not went into one ear and out of the other.
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