You mustn't go dressing up Tom, Dick, and Harry in Henry Esmond's ruffles. For a moment or two Gerald stood in the total silence of amazement, his pistol up and pointing, aware that Hilary was likewise stunned, standing with halfdrawn sword. Besides, I do not want a price on my head. It was not a cambric curtain Ruth had drawn across that part of her life: it was of iron. There was a black fear in his heart.
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