’ ‘Damn you, I should have beaten you,’ Gerald swore, holding fast to his corner of the little square of linen. Friday was not a big dinner night at the Beck house. At times he seemed to be claiming pity from her; at times he was threatening her with her check and exposure; at times he was boasting of his inflexible will, and how, in the end, he always got what he wanted. "You can't go to sea with a book of rules. "Something more than whisky did that. Your lamented mother, whose loss I shall ever deplore, perceived my passion and encouraged it.
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