CHAPTER XXIX. Our heads swim with the thought of being together. It was easy to recognize, the one thing that had stayed the same over the years. ‘Say it. For ten years I've been trying to go home, but my conscience will not permit me, I hate the Orient. Wild," he added, laughing, "it must be a stronger prison than Willesden cage that can hold me. For heaven’s sake, give him some Madeira or something, Gerald! Anything to calm him down.
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