‘No, my poor guardian,’ Gerald mocked. He wore a black tail coat buttoned tightly over his chest, and a large diamond pin sparkled in a white satin tie which had seen better days. On the cords being removed, he made a desperate spring at Wild, bore him to the ground, clutched at his throat, and would, infallibly, have strangled him, if the keepers had not all thrown themselves upon him, and by main force torn him off. Because here was the haven for which she had been blindly groping: the positive abolition of all her father's rights in her—the right to drag her back. Ramage.
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