I can’t stand it. Listening on the dimlit landing, he saw Roding’s face muscles tighten. Gerald sympathised with his friend’s irritation. “I wonder if it is. Kneebone! you would greatly oblige me by surrendering yourself. ” Capes suddenly abandoned his attitude of meditative restraint. We are alone, Sir Rowland," he added, snuffing the candles, glancing cautiously around, and lowering his tone, "and what you confide to me shall never transpire,—at least to your disadvantage.
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