“Act three. What is done cannot be undone. You can do anything you please. He tugged at the overly large hooded sweatshirt, which she unzipped and let fall to the ground. ‘Could she have been a spy, after all?’ ‘Oh, she’s not a spy,’ Gerald answered, almost absently. “My hand! This isn’t the place. Tender with the sick, firm with the strong, fearless, with a body that had the resistance of iron, there was nothing of the hypocrite in him. ‘I am glad it is you, because you can help me.
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