Gerald at once rid himself of his own glass and leapt to her assistance. “I have given it up,” she answered. “Happened! Oh, many things,” she declared indolently. I’m starving. For my blood you made it very hot indeed. But don't thank me; thank Miss Enschede. She looked at him as he fingered a small switch on the side of the helicopter’s door. She was looking about her, and her face was dark with anger.
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