Something in her voice and manner conveyed an effect of unwonted gravity to him. He wanted her named Mary. She had fallen asleep on the wooden bed, uncaring of lice or bedbugs. It was a habit she had taken from Remenham House, but could not wear because of the colour which must draw attention. ‘What in God’s name do you think you’re playing at?’ ‘Let me alone, man,’ Gerald muttered under his breath.
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