“Gellett,” he called, “just come and clear up a mess, will you? I’ve smashed some things. ‘How did you know that Mary was his daughter?’ Gerald hesitated. His mother smiled in return, an act that brightened her thin face. “Very likely,” he answered. “You remind me of a little blue stone I had once. He had little money about him, and unless friends come to his aid he must be treated as a pauper. Sharples received them at the threshold, and holding his lantern towards the prisoners to acquaint himself with their features, nodded to Quilt, between whom and himself some secret understanding seemed to subsist, and then closed and barred the door.
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