It was a moment or two before Gerald realised that he could feel the fluttering of her pulse beneath the light touch he had on her wrist, and that her fingers were trembling in his. He noted the strong white teeth as they snipped the thread. ‘Pen and paper, do you have them?’ ‘Danged if I have,’ came the truculent response. I’m a little tired. Within ten minutes he had read much more than had greeted his eye. The dog was, in a sense, a gift of the gods. Ireton will do no such thing," replied the head-turnkey.
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