‘No, my poor guardian,’ Gerald mocked. “You would appear to be trying to destroy a comradeship which has been very, very pleasant. America, the land of rosy apples and snowstorms, beckoned, and she wanted to fly thitherward. Immediately a feathered hat emerged, under which a familiar countenance was visible. "The poor things!" The manager laughed. Chapter Seven ‘Oh, my God,’ burst from Gerald. ” Courtlaw suddenly interposed.
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