Wood, was much better furnished with eatables than might have been expected, and boasted a loaf, a knuckle of ham, a meat-pie, and a flask of wine. Jane was a smoldering auburn-haired Irish beauty who seldom spoke to anyone. It got on my nerves—the women I saw. What else could one say? I left him to suppose—a registry perhaps. Not a word was uttered for some time, nor any sound heard except the stilled sobs of the unfortunate mother. Gerald kicked the panelled wall in frustration. You called her a wanton!" "Because I had every reason to believe she was one.
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