In the present case it did not matter, as there was no one else within earshot. It was still too dark for reading, but she could see well enough to note the number of the last page—fifty-six. While he was meditating flight in this way, and tossing about on the straw, he chanced upon an old broken and rusty fork. It was the one that she had sworn she’d throw out, if only Julian had not liked it so much. Gerald guessed she was biting her tongue on an explosive retort as she eyed him. I ask you, although it is not my place to ask you, to return home. His first reaction had been explosive as the hurts of the past rose up to taunt him. “You were really at Moulton House,” she exclaimed penitently.
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