She could see over a waist high stone wall into the miniature courtyard, complete with benches only a small child could sit upon, one which had been broken in half, its two pieces left unjoined on the sandy ground. For heaven’s sake, give him some Madeira or something, Gerald! Anything to calm him down. Promise me one thing before I leave you. I speak no harm of her. There’s that old gentleman at the end of the table—Bullding his name is.
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