My servant. . He's a Welshman, and I wouldn't for a trifle that any accident befel him. ’ ‘You little fiend,’ exclaimed Gerald wrathfully. ’ ‘You know, Gerald,’ Lucilla put in thoughtfully, forestalling a withering rejoinder from the captain, ‘there may be something in that. His hair had begun to gray, his belly had just begun to round. He was never known to err, and was as much dreaded as the jailfever in consequence.
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