He threw up his hand, reeled for a moment on his feet, and collapsed upon the floor. I don’t quite know why. Earles protested, seating himself before the desk, and dipping his pen in the ink. ‘Laisse-moi,’ she threw at him, her brief attack of sobs already ended, although the trace of tears on her cheeks bore witness to its sincerity. ‘Why does this person say you are mad?’ ‘Because I am risking having my head blown off,’ Gerald answered cheerfully. I sometimes laid away my father's clothes in his trunk.
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