You didn’t see me fall into a swoon when you cursed just now, did you?’ ‘I’m beginning to doubt if anything less than a sledgehammer would send you into a swoon,’ Gerald retorted. Kneebone made his appearance. It was also cold, and dark, for there had been no time to light the lantern. She held it by the neck and broke the end of the bottle on the hard dirt. Then to Martin's brandy-shop, in Fleet Street.
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