The detective reckoned that his quarry would be up in ten days more. Gerald at once rid himself of his own glass and leapt to her assistance. His eyes were fixed upon her face, but he opened his lips twice before he spoke. Hers was beauty on a large scale no doubt; but it was beauty, nevertheless: and the carpenter thought her eyes as bright, her complexion as blooming, and her figure (if a little more buxom) quite as captivating as when he led her to the altar some twenty years ago. They are not your flowers.
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