’ He reached into an inner pocket of his coat and brought out a packet of papers. The will to live had returned. She had not thought anything could equal her despair at that moment. She meant to leave anyway, or so she would tell herself later. I am not angry with you, but with this—this—’ ‘Idiot? Imbecile?’ offered Gerald in a helpful tone. This fruit was McClintock's particular pride. "Come, off with it, sirrah, or I'll blow out your brains, in the first place, and strip you afterwards. Come to take leave.
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