’ Gerald held out his hand, and she meekly gave the dagger up to him. ’ Lady Bicknacre, resplendent in purple satin, and basking in her triumphantly full rooms—for it was obvious that her patronage of the refugees had set a quickly to be followed fashion—was all sorrow and sympathy when Gerald spoke of them. The couple reappeared from behind the curtains, both visibly shaken. She had money of her own—much more than I have—and there was no need to squabble about that. There's the paragraph.
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