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"I imagine I must have a hundred rolls—all the old fellows. "As long as you please, Sir," answered the matron, dropping a curtsey. When he was done she kissed his cheek tenderly. He was a man tout à fait capable, this Gerald. He sat with folded arms and knitted brows, thinking intently. We shall never have an heir, you and I! My family is crumbling; all of my brothers are dead. Bête, she told herself fiercely. "Vat ish it, Mishter Vild?" inquired Mendez.
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