’ Gerald hissed in a doubtful breath. Taking the wind was her business in life. All right, I’m coming. Annabel a murderess! It was not possible. A child—as innocent as a child! Nothing about life; bemused by the fairy stories you writers call novels! I don't know what you have done; I don't care. Ruth's emotion was a primitive joy: she was essential in this man's life, and she would always be happy because he would always be needing her.
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