‘What in God’s name do you think you’re playing at?’ ‘Let me alone, man,’ Gerald muttered under his breath. There was a tearing sound and the cloth of her habit ripped apart as the smothered point drove through it, missing its intended target. ’ ‘Indeed?’ Gerald said politely. "That's odd. “He’s a Fellow of the Royal Society, and he can’t be much over thirty,” said Miss Klegg. She did this to please him. "Enough," said Jack, recovering his composure.
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