"I was right," replied Jack, returning as coolly as if nothing had happened. She realized dimly that there was no personal thing behind his cry, that countless myriads of Mannings had “My God!”-ed with an equal gusto at situations as flatly apprehended. I'll dispose of the brat. We LIKED each other well enough. Gerald’s temper flared. Oaths exploded like shells from a battery in full fire, accompanied by threats of direst vengeance against the individuals who had maltreated them. Her hands wove through his black hair, luxuriating in its thickness. Hidden menace; a prescience of something dreadful about to happen.
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