I wish very much that you had written before leaving Paris. “Let go!” she gasped at him, a blaze of anger. Jack's complexion was that of a gipsy; Darrell's as fresh and bright as a rose. But not finding it, he had again recourse to the bludgeon, and began beating the hand fixed on the upper rail, until, by smashing the fingers, he forced it to relinquish its hold.
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