’ ‘You traitor, Gerald,’ laughed Lucilla, her yellow curls bouncing under a huge straw bonnet all over flowers. Through a blur of tears Ruth followed the rocking light until it vanished. . Think, ma’am. Never for a moment had violence come between these two since long ago he had, in spite of her mother’s protest in the background, carried her kicking and squalling to the nursery for some forgotten crime. ‘Oh, we was always in there, miss,’ admitted Joan, moving closer.
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