F. The Wastrel did not relish this. Gerald raised his cockaded hat, and smiled. ‘No need to shake in your boots,’ Gerald said soothingly. To be alone with her, in idleness, was an intolerable thought. He grabbed her hair viciously and whispered loudly into her tear-streaked face. ” He snarled. Keep it! Keep it!” Part 6 They walked a long way that afternoon.
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