Chapter Seven ‘Oh, my God,’ burst from Gerald. Yet he’s been here for six years, and he’s as much a fixture as that sham mahogany sideboard. He pulled her from him to kiss her on the mouth and paused, looking into her face. “Yes. One cannot successfully argue with a drunken man. Yet you can look Cheveney in the face and declare that you do not know him. He had the appearance of a man who has known no rest for many nights.
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