’ Gerald drew his breath in sharply as Lord Charvill took a step towards his granddaughter, thrusting out his head. ’ ‘Comment? You wish to murder me?’ ‘No, I wish to beat you,’ he retorted. But I'm not worrying about that. And for twelve years he has been so; until his long security, well-nigh obliterating remembrance of the deed, has bred almost a sense of innocence within his breast.
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