. ’ Gerald moved to the long sofa, dusted it with elaborate care with one of its cushions, and with a gesture invited her to sit down. Gerald had been confident that the boy would not dream of disobeying an order thrown at him by a major of militia, but he guessed Jack might be wondering if he was about to be haled off to prison. Where was this kindly world she had drawn so rosily in fancy? Disillusion everywhere. Sebastian physically restrained her as she hit and scratched at him, trying to touch her mother who went swiftly into her death throes. ’ ‘Nothing of the sort,’ Gerald said calmly, sipping at his burgundy. I did not know what I was saying.
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