The man was dangerous. "Curse me, if I don't think all the world means to cross the Thames this fine night," observed Ben. "Bolt the wicket!" shouted Ireton, who, with the others, had been not a little entertained by the gallant turnkey's discomfiture. Gerald lifted an eyebrow. “His stipend forbade it,” she said, and seemed to fall into a train of thought. At noon the doctor himself arrived. He glanced up at the coachman. "She's glorious!" He knew that he must hoodwink this keeneyed Scot, even as he must hoodwink everybody: publicly, the devoted husband; privately, the celibate. As the day wore on, the crowds diminished,—many who would not submit to the turnkey's demands were sent away ungratified,—and at five o'clock, only two strangers, Mr. ‘Give me my pistol!’ Gerald shook his head, slipping the pistol into his pocket.
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