" "If I do, I care not," rejoined Wild; "I shall have lived to see you hanged. ’ Gerald tutted. "One of us has got to die," he panted. ‘Where’s the sense in running away?’ ‘Doesn’t trust me,’ Gerald said briefly. He beheld the grey tower of Willesden Church, embosomed in its grove of trees, now clothed, in all the glowing livery of autumn. I've foiled him hitherto, and will foil him yet. He leaned forward to embrace her.
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