‘I am Major Gerald Alderley of the West Kent Militia. Pausing with the intention of turning back, he glanced in the direction of the village church, the tower of which could just be seen through the trees. "And now, widow," he continued, "attend to the next verse, for it consarns a friend o' yours. They blinded me. ’ *** It must have been fate, Gerald decided, near an hour later, staring intently at the closed French windows on the raised alcove that led out to the terrace. She had eaten them, murdered them routinely, and yet he loved her still. “Thanks, I’m not very fond of coffee,” Anna answered, “and I hate music.
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