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3. ’ Gerald looked round. Jack Kimble nodded eagerly. Them young prigs is all alike. She covered herself with her arms. “Isn’t that rather a strange question—under the circumstances?” he asked quietly. It had thrust her back with an undignified scuffle, with vulgar comedy, with an unendurable, scornful grin. 'Avow nothing, believe nothing, give nothing for nothing,' is my own motto. So, one day, because God was wroth, her mother ran away with a blackguard, and died in the gutter, miserably.
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