I’ve had it, Sheila. ‘Give me my pistol!’ Gerald shook his head, slipping the pistol into his pocket. I'm not noble; so my honourable ancestors will not turn over in their graves. "Do you call this frantic glee happiness?" "It's all the happiness I have known for years," returned the widow, becoming suddenly calm, "and it's short-lived enough, as you perceive. There was a mad musician, seemingly rapt in admiration of the notes he was extracting from a child's violin. No hair to fall awry, no powder to displace, no ruffles to crush; men are lucky.
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