‘How much does he know?’ Without waiting for a reply, she turned narrowed eyes on Gerald. He was still thickly clad in jeans. In the discussion there was the oddest mixture of things that were personal and petty with an idealist devotion that was fine beyond dispute. In the distance a barrel-organ was grinding out a pot pourri of popular airs. They did not care— servant or master, it meant nothing. " The Wastrel advanced.
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