It had her raven locks, her pouting lips. His gaze drawn, Gerald watched him dip to pick up a crushed square of white linen and a starched object that resembled a helmet. Hastening in the direction of the sound, he discovered Thames Darrell, stretched upon the ground. Gerald at once rid himself of his own glass and leapt to her assistance. ’ ‘Get rid of the wench,’ Roding said brutally. Behind Mrs. “Yeah.
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