’ ‘But it was not your fault,’ protested Gosse, shocked. And now," she added, glancing contemptuously at the woollen-draper, "I'll go to Jack Sheppard. She spoke slowly. She addresses you as the Flower of the Lotus, as the Resplendent Moonbeam. Gerald watched its approach with vague interest, which quickened when he saw that it was drawing up outside the very house out of which he had just stepped. What more could any reasonable man— especially a watchman—desire? Besides, the Marquis, is a devilish fine fellow, and a particular friend of mine.
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