’ Gerald capitulated. “Your mother was a Gypsy. "Remember!" cried Quilt, as he forced the captive along. The Storm VII. Its importance had vanished with her abandonment of compromise. These thoughts, however, came to a broken end. He wore a threecornered hat, a sandy-coloured scratch wig, and had a thick woollen wrapper folded round his throat. After a certain amount of manœuvring, however, he was induced to crawl around, and in a few minutes came to stop again before a tall brightly-painted house, which seemed like an oasis of colour and assertive prosperity in a long dingy row.
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