What does she look like?’ ‘Black hair. ’ ‘Poor little devil,’ said Gerald, genuinely sorry for her. He looked at her in some embarrassment. “You’re not a virgin, are you?” It was as much an accusation as a question. At length, about an hour before dawn on the second day—Sunday—having spent the early part of the night in watching at the gates of the robbers' sanctuary, and being almost exhausted from want of rest, she set out homewards. Too close, he reasoned, for safety. My natural parents both died a very long time ago and I have been on my own for a great deal of my existence. “Does he never speak to you of—of old times?” she faltered.
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