‘Well, I can see you won’t let it alone, so what do you propose to do about the wench?’ ‘I’ll die before I let it alone,’ Gerald vowed. She drifted back into the welcoming arms of sleep, feeling herself surrounded in silk. She was unusually pale, and her eyes were brilliant. This time they would call it murder. The light was poor, so that she saw their gleaming faces dimly and indistinctly. ‘Come on, Hilary. " "I dare say no such thing," interposed his better half, authoritatively; "remain where you are, Sir. She pulled her hand away quickly.
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