She reached for the door handle. Mac would have some new yarns to spin and a fresh turn-over to his celebrated liver. But you, Ferringhall, our pattern, an erstwhile Sheriff of London, a county magistrate, a prospective politician, a sober and an upright man, one who, had he aspired to it, might even have filled the glorious position of Lord Mayor— James, a whisky and Apollinaris at once. And Mother trusted him. ’ Gerald laughed. It would be downright cruel to disillusion her. And most of the others she had met had, she felt, the same steadfastness. She put a hand to the lad’s cold cheek and choked on a sob. In Singapore that had been her only dissipation: a dozen pairs of silk stockings. "No," answered Jack, approaching her, "though, if I had done so, he would have merited his fate.
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