‘Give me my pistol!’ Gerald shook his head, slipping the pistol into his pocket. "Quite sorry, my good friend, there should have been any misunderstanding between us," observed the woollen-draper. In her ears there was a medley of sound: wailing music, rumbling tom-toms and sputtering firecrackers. He drew her away from this thought. Lucy simply added her own good night, even though a significant part of her wanted to call Cathy mother, she refrained. But he was at last persuaded that I mean you no harm, and that I might—just possibly, since I am both a gentleman and a major of militia—be able to be of more assistance to you than he himself. I’m making a mess of my life— unless you come in and take it. And if sometimes I grow heady—and it's in the blood— remind me of this day when you took me out of hell—a thief. ‘And I don’t mind telling you it goes agin’ the grain with me to let you go free and all, missie. With a strong tendency to satire, but without a particle of malice or ill-nature in its display.
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