They drove around town that night in his Buick convertible. Cursing under his breath, Gerald moved swiftly across and dragged her away. The thought caused him an odd kind of pang—of pity, naturally. “God in Heaven, Annabel!” he cried. He was smiling under his heavy mustache, and his head was a little on one side as he looked at her. “I was already aware of the fact. Think—think of that engagement!” Their talk had come to eloquent silences that contradicted all he had to say. "And who taught it you—the landlord, Joe Hind?" "No; one Blueskin, a fellow who frequents the Lion," answered Jack, with a degree of candour that astonished his master nearly as much as his confidence. His vision was becoming accustomed to the faint light now and her features were clearer. "Will you plead?" demanded Wild, harshly. This service rendered, without waiting for any farther order, she withdrew. She saw marks in the dirt where he had been pacing.
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