Gerald kicked the panelled wall in frustration. "Is my house to be made a receptacle for all your natural children, Sir? Answer me that. ‘Well, I can see you won’t let it alone, so what do you propose to do about the wench?’ ‘I’ll die before I let it alone,’ Gerald vowed. You are my slave—and such you shall continue. "No Blueskin, I perceive, Sir," he observed, in a deferential tone, as Wild entered the Lodge. Thames Darrell MUST die.
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