A slow anger burned in the man. A vein of conviction mingled with his burlesque. . ‘Do not look at me so,’ he snapped. ‘Do you not understand that I can trust no one—no one?’ ‘That is a pity,’ Gerald said, rising to face her. What sort of a standard of life yours may be I do not know, yet in your heart you know very well that every word you have spoken to me has been a veiled insult, every time you have come into my presence has been an outrage. " "Well, villain!" replied Thames, "I know not the motive of your visit. —I'll give him the edication of a prig,—teach him the use of his forks betimes,—and make him, in the end, as clever a cracksman as his father.
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