’ Melusine bubbled over and warmth rose in Gerald’s chest. Standing on tiptoe, on a joint-stool, placed upon the bench, with his back to the door, and a clasp-knife in his hand, this youngster, instead of executing his appointed task, was occupied in carving his name upon a beam, overhead. She crept into the living room and turned off the set, adjusting Cathy’s blanket which had fallen to the carpeted floor. Quite right. “You know,” he muttered, “you know quite well that your troubles are far more likely to weigh upon me than my own. ‘Certainly I am not a nun. And shall their wretched offspring live to blight my hopes, and blast my fame? Never!" And, with these words, he grasped Wood by the throat, and, despite his resistance, dragged him to the very verge of the platform.
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