‘You’re either mad, or in love. I'd have got something nice. ’ Hilary eyed him. Fortunately, the window was not far from the ground; so opening it gently, he dropped into a backyard, and from thence got into the street. Danger, in the form he apprehended, was lurking outside: nor was he destined to enjoy long repose. ‘But who was he, Gerald?’ ‘A damned condottiere,’ exploded Gerald, forgetting his company. He too looked at the girl, slackened his pace and looked at her again through his eye-glasses, looked over his shoulder after he had passed, and finally came to a dead stop. He left the room, presumably to sleep elsewhere, but the only other room with a fire was the servant’s quarters. Then his beard was of a reddish hue, and his complexion warm and sanguine.
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