She galloped up the small stairs, hearing that Shari had finally risen. "Is your master at home?" inquired the jailer. She saw marks in the dirt where he had been pacing. Something in his smile, in the cynical suggestiveness of his deferential tone, maddened her. As he pocketed it, her open palm reached out and slapped his cheek. ‘Parbleu, how you make me talk!’ ‘Your secret is safe with me, I promise you,’ Gerald said reassuringly. Once she reached the bamboo curtain, clutched at it and tore it down as his arms went around her waist. ” He retorted smartly, looking at her with mischief. Don't worry about me. ” He snarled. I'll be at the Cross Shovels in the course of the day. Look at this ring;—it's a diamond, and worth a mint o' money.
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