By the time she arrived at the Beck’s doorstep, the morning was risen. ’ ‘Poor sort of a mother,’ Martha said with bitterness. We are going to have this chap writing books one of these days. Don't be afraid—I won't hurt you. ‘Besides, I don’t want the men blundering in here and frightening off our spy. For an instant, Gerald wished the rest of the world away that he might go to her and administer appropriate comfort.
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