’ He gave the gaping Pottiswick a shove, passing him on to his junior, who was waiting patiently by the kitchen door. “It was my sister Anna. ‘What do we do now?’ Gerald took a pace towards the girl. But what if she were to marry? He glanced towards the elderly dame and found her watching him, the dimple very much in evidence. The act was mechanical, a bit of sparring for time: his anger was searching about for a new vent. “I’d never have a day of peace again, John.
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