‘Dare I suppose that to be of her making?’ Gerald flushed. She was not very clear about the position and duties of a chorus-girl, but it certainly had the air of being a last desperate resort. ’ ‘Perfectly correct, my boy. He rambled in an unfortunate monotone, the result of his innate fear of public speaking. She obeyed, extending her arm. She interrupted. He waited. I have a weapon—a knife—and if you attempt to open the door, will plunge it to my heart.
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