If only Gerald would come. No great lover of state or state costume at any time, he was generally, towards the close of an evening, completely in dishabille, and in this condition he now presented himself to his subjects. But it's an odd case. What else could he do? You can’t kick up a scene on the spur of the moment in the face of such conflicting values as he had before him. . The house was redolent with the smells of cinnamon baking and the stuffed turkey and marinated pork roast. “My God!” he said again. “Well?” “I don’t care a rap for all these things. ' Avoid taverns and bad company, and you may yet do well.
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