Automatically, she glanced at the slight red graze left on her neck that marked the point where Gerald’s sword had nicked her. He would never be able to compose upon it, but it would serve to produce the finished work. "What's the matter?" he cried. He could have easily forced it, but preferred a more expeditious mode of reaching the roof which suggested itself to him. Anna turned round with a start, which was almost of guilt, the poker still in her hand. ’ Gerald grinned. . Neither he nor Gerald chose to attire themselves in full military rig on fashionable occasions such as this.
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