Meantime, as the doctor was splitting his breakfast orange, he heard a commotion in his office, two rooms removed: volleys of pidgin English, one voice in protest, the other dominant. ‘Give me my pistol!’ Gerald shook his head, slipping the pistol into his pocket. " "Thank God for that!" cried Wood, heartily. She loved Florence, wandering the huge markets which bustled day and night. She was surprised and stared at him when he did not immediately leave the bed as Gianfrancesco always did, but instead rested on his elbows.
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