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Gerald frowned. Without turning or looking in his direction she leaned forwards, her head supported upon her fingers, her elbows upon her knees. Alarmed by the noise of the scuffle, Quilt and Sharples rushed to the assistance of their comrade. ’ ‘I swear to you, it is the exact truth,’ he protested. Just one thing more. Clotilde flew into a rage, crying, “How dare you lay claim to my children! I am their mother! This is a Godless house!” She accused. "My horse is at the door, saddled, with pistols in the holsters,—mount him and fly. ” His voice assumed an easy detached tone.
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