Then there was Tom Jarrot, the hackney-coachman, who was pitched off the box against yonder curbstone, and broke his leg. "Come! I see the storm has blown over," cried Winifred, brightening up. ‘If you shoot me,’ Gerald said quickly, throwing out a hand, ‘I shan’t be able to rescue you. In the first place, it will be damnably dull. I never forgive an injury.
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