‘She hasn’t said so, but I presume Valade had got hold of all the useful papers,’ Gerald went on. Her voice recalled him. Even given that he was hopelessly enamoured of the wench, a fact which was obvious to the meanest intelligence. Mrs. . Evidently her foresight has saved me a funeral. She was alone with a deadly enemy. He tugged at the overly large hooded sweatshirt, which she unzipped and let fall to the ground. But he has never been near her—never.
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