I drew out what I had saved and boarded the first ship out. The features were indistinct, but was that not a halo of white about it? And the dark shadow below, was that a cloak, or the habit of a nun? Skirting the dancing, from which he had taken a breather—not from lack of energy, but to escape the inanities of the young ladies he had partnered—Gerald made his way to a side door in the saloon and opened it. I want to give myself to you. He found that the skiff had been dashed against one of the buttresses of the bridge.
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