‘Do please continue,’ Gerald begged, deceptively docile. He ran back to his car, glancing only once at the man in the car. Then to the Feathers, in Drury Lane. Gerald had been confident that the boy would not dream of disobeying an order thrown at him by a major of militia, but he guessed Jack might be wondering if he was about to be haled off to prison. The morning swims in the lagoon had thickened the red corpuscle.
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