"By George!" he exclaimed. It may not be just, it may not be fair, but things are so. He would never be able to figure out that: all these miles from Cuba, and you could get a perfecto for thirteen cents. The horse-soldiers wheeled round and cleared a path: the foot closed in upon the cart. "Well, Sir?" cried the other, eagerly. ’ *** Gerald Alderley stepped out of a house he had been visiting in Hamilton Place and the door closed behind him.
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