“A volatile temperament—yes, a volatile temperament,” Mr. “Remember,” he said, “you are not by any means a dying man now, but you’ll never pull through if you don’t husband your strength. In one angle of the room stood a disused fire-place, with a rusty grate and broken chimney-piece; in the other there was a sort of box, contrived between the wall and the boards, that looked like an apology for a cupboard. I've a question to ask him. I’m a female thing at bottom. Even Blueskin looked on with anxiety. ‘You would read my mind?’ Gerald was pretty certain he already had, but he did not say so.
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