In her ears there was a medley of sound: wailing music, rumbling tom-toms and sputtering firecrackers. You know the sort of thing. ‘Lord,’ Gerald uttered, his inexplicable annoyance evaporating. A doubt as to your dinner to-morrow would make you miserable to-night. She leaves town to-morrow. The Ragged Edge. Pardon what I have said, Madam.
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