Presently he began to weave a tale, sorry enough, with all the ancient claptraps and rusted platitudes. In fact, Gerald had given order to the coachman to drive out of Golden Square and then stop around the corner. How the deuce, though, am I going to account for her? People will be asking questions when they see her; and if I tell the truth, they'll start to snubbing her. There's a man dying—Captain Darrell. The evenings were beginning to draw out, and it would not be dark for an hour.
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