He drew her close up to him with a strong, steady pull. Gerald caught the look and slipped the weapon into his pocket. She might be able to go on with biology, possibly even work upon the same questions that he dealt with. Woman's love of silk is not set by fashion; it is bred in the bone; and somewhere, somehow, a woman will have her bit of silk. "And now," cried Jack, leaping up, "for an achievement, compared with which all I have yet done shall be as nothing!" CHAPTER XVII.
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