‘But you know everything now,’ protested Hilary, keeping pace as Gerald took the stairs two at a time. He grabbed her legs and threw the covers from the bed. You’ll end up dead, that’s what. You want industry—you want steadiness. “Want to see the computer?” He asked eagerly. In this state, he was laid upon a bench, to sleep off his drunken fit, while his wretched mother, in spite of her passionate supplications and resistance, was, by Blueskin's command, forcibly ejected from the house, and driven out of the Mint.
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