Not far from him was a knot of lads drinking, swearing, and playing at dice as eagerly and as skilfully as any of the older hands. I didn’t understand before that letter. So strongly was he impressed with this idea, that grasping the iron bar with both hands, he dashed it furiously against the door, making the passage echo with the blows. ‘I know you, Gerald. “He was a friend of your sister’s, was he not?” “I never heard her mention his name,” she answered. An ill-lined purse is a poor recompense for the risk I have run.
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