"Let me go first," said Blueskin; "the dogs know me. Eight per cent. But recently he had asked God to pile it all on him; and God had added this, with a fresh portion for Ruth. "As I said before, I have little reliance upon professions of gratitude. . I love you—unendurably. ‘But who was he, Gerald?’ ‘A damned condottiere,’ exploded Gerald, forgetting his company.
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