We’re the hysterical animal, Mr. ‘Come, cry a truce. What had Brewis Charvill to say to that, Gerald?’ ‘He had nothing to say to it. Mac would have some new yarns to spin and a fresh turn-over to his celebrated liver. To surrender himself to the law, to face trial and imprisonment, was out of the question. There was an air of repressed gaiety in her actions: the sense of freedom had returned; her heart was empty again. Folks don’t like ’em.
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