‘You’re as mad as she is, Gerald. Could she hold him and manage the reins? If only Gerald had not gone. Now keep still. Because she states her case in a tangle, drags it through swamps of nonsense, it doesn’t alter the fact that she is right. I need a white man, if only to talk to; and it will be a god send to talk to someone of your intelligence. He looked like the shadow of himself—thin, feeble, hollow-eyed—his beard unshorn—nothing could be more miserable.
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