He stopped on the curb-stone, not facing her but as if he was on his way to cross the road, and spoke to her suddenly over his shoulder. "I thought I heard a noise. "I'm prudence personified. . ’ ‘For God’s sake, don’t accuse her of murder,’ begged Gerald, retrieving the lady’s hat and handing it to her, ‘or she’ll be challenging me to a duel again. He glanced up. H’m. His chest heaved violently, and big tears coursed rapidly down his cheeks. And as these things should always be treated as matters of business, I'll just draw up a memorandum of our arrangement.
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