There haven't been so many ladies in the Lodge since the days of Claude Du Val, the gentleman highwayman; and they all declare it'll break their hearts if he's scragged. Gerald at once lowered his voice to that intimate level again, and leaned towards her. "Can you pull him through?" was the anxious question. I had left Paris. Good-bye, for the pressent—ha! ha!" And, laughing loudly at his own facetiousness, he quitted the Lodge. And, fearing you might not come to me, I forced my way hither, even with certainty of discomposing your friends.
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