Even given that he was hopelessly enamoured of the wench, a fact which was obvious to the meanest intelligence. . She could hear him from the lower floor as he locked the gates and drew up the wooden part of the bridge. Perhaps I deceived you about it. ’ ‘Nothing of the sort,’ Gerald said calmly, sipping at his burgundy. He rambled in an unfortunate monotone, the result of his innate fear of public speaking. Jonathan's wicked threat is fulfilled at last.
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