Chapter XXVIII THE HISSING OF “ALCIDE” There was a strange and ominous murmur of voices, a shuffling of feet in the gallery, a silence, which was like the silence before a storm. "Wet your whistle before you start, Jack," said Kneebone, pouring out a glass of ale. My death, probably. " "You judged rightly," rejoined Jack; "I never yet broke an engagement with friend or foe—and never will. "Do you mean to say you will interfere—" "I mean to say this," interrupted Wild, with contemptuous calmness, "that I'll neither allow you to leave England nor the profession you've engaged in. What little happiness I had I was forced to steal. So I undertook to protect her by keeping love out of her life, by crushing it whenever it appeared, obliterating it. For heaven’s sake, give him some Madeira or something, Gerald! Anything to calm him down. As Gosse pushed her around it, she felt his hold about her of necessity loosen slightly. It feels like it. .
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