’ ‘What?’ Roding’s glare tried Gerald’s control severely, but he pursued his theme unheeding. He seldom spoke, and drank with a persistence that was sinister. Without turning or looking in his direction she leaned forwards, her head supported upon her fingers, her elbows upon her knees. ‘He’d have been that happy if he’d known how you’re the spit of her, miss. He seemed so clean anyway, his fair 215 skin, his light brown hair, there almost seemed to be no point. .
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