It was a moment or two before Gerald realised that he could feel the fluttering of her pulse beneath the light touch he had on her wrist, and that her fingers were trembling in his. ’ You mean you hope you do, thought Gerald cynically. ‘But don’t let me stop you from going to see Charvill. ” She replied, smiling awkwardly. "Hark 'ee, Ben," said the old sailor, knocking the ashes from his pipe upon the hob; "you may try, but dash my timbers if you'll ever cross the Thames to-night.
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