Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples, for I am sick of love. ’ ‘I thank you,’ Gerald said drily. If I told you the facts, I expect, since you are in love with me, you’d explain the whole business as being very fine and honorable for me—the Higher Morality, or something of that sort. Sc. Sir John filled his glass with trembling hand. —Give me the letters, my love," she added aloud, and in her most winning accents; "they're some wicked forgeries.
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