The Wastrel wiped the blood from his forehead. Running to Gosse, she seized the portrait from his hand and lashed out, taking him off guard, so that he staggered back and fell against the card table. And now she comprehended that the man (she had never known him by any name) knew she had surprised the look and had not resented it. Advancing towards Wood, Jonathan fixed his keen gray eyes upon him, and demanded, in a stern tone whether the persons who had taken refuge in the adjoining house, were bailiffs.
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