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She could not go to him with a preachment against strong drink; she knew from experience that such a plan would be wasted effort. To her mind, recalling the picture of him the night before, there had been something tragic in the grim silent manner of his tippling. Manning came into her thoughts again, an unexpected, tall, dark, self-contained presence at the Fadden. ’ Taking the chair she had indicated with a careless wave of one stiff-fingered hand, Gerald felt hope burgeoning. God only knows what I have done, or left undone.
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