Oh God! pardon me. Gerald’s gaze bored into hers. He had not been successful as the world counted success; the fat bank-account, the filled waiting room of which he had once dreamed, had never materialized except in the smoke of his evening pipe. Part 6 He became quite sure, by a sort of accumulation of reflection, as the day wore on. ” “Not exactly,” he answered nervously. “It was a phase,” she said. "Good-b'ye, Jack," said Figg, putting on his hat.
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