When I've had an hour's rest, I'll be after Blueskin. ‘No sense in snooping about down here,’ Gerald whispered. “Don’t you know, child, that this is torture for me? What in God’s name more can you have to tell me?” Her face had become almost like a marble image. It’s on the horse. This—’ waving an imperious hand in a sweeping arc about the library ‘—is my house. There must be ways of getting rid of him. My wife doesn’t understand, doesn’t understand now.
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