Slowly she released the hammer on the pistol, uncocking it, and Gerald became conscious that he had been holding his breath. The boy was right. She turned to Lucilla, a plea in her face. "Drink this," cried Jonathan, handing her the cup. He reappeared in street clothes, his cropped hair not even damp from the shower, fresh-faced and sweetsmelling. Won’t you let me—can’t I be of any assistance?” He was obviously in earnest. "This is the explanation of the bloody deed. She felt draggled and insulted beyond redemption.
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