“She’s my wife,” the man muttered. Who was he to tread on her dreams? She had heroworshipped an unscrupulous adventurer, who had not hesitated to impose on her youth and her ignorance. Her fingers passed over a cunningly wrought surface of wood, with just the correct amount of protrusion, the precise colours of dyed leather, and cleverly gilded surfaces and neatly painted lettering. Jack looked towards the door. It has become a part of the order of my life. ’ Gerald noted the mixture of respect and apprehension in the glance he received from the boy.
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