Lucy felt the hairs on her neck rise. Peste, where was her handkerchief? She remembered then that it had been lost in the struggle with Gerald. His legs were dreadfully swelled; his hands bruised; and his fetters occasioned him intolerable pain. To be frank with you, I have an affront to requite, which can be settled at the same time, and in the same way with your affair. ‘Do you think I could endure to hear you prattling your abominable French in my ear day by day? Enough to drive me straight into my grave. Shoplatch. Take your pick, Mrs. Now lend me your own hand.
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