I should lose every scrap of independence—even my self-respect. ‘But who was he, Gerald?’ ‘A damned condottiere,’ exploded Gerald, forgetting his company. "More than you'll pay for it, friend," snuffled the Jew. Ramage!” she cried, and struggled to her feet. She wanted to come, and I wouldn't let her. He saluted awkwardly. "My sight is failing me. I felt as though I had bandaged eyes. ‘She? Sa femme? That is the game then? That she could dare to take my place, that salope.
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