Gerald’s gaze bored into hers. His fingers cherished the hilt of his sword and his eyes were on his friend and superior, ready at his back to do whatever was needed. Let us have no more of this humbug. " "From some of your associates?" "From your uncle, from my uncle,—Sir Rowland Trenchard. It was not only that her father had said all sorts of inconsistent and unreasonable things, but that by some incomprehensible infection she herself had replied in the same vein. It was one of the secret troubles of her mind, this grotesque twist her ideas would sometimes take, as though they rebelled and rioted.
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