She had never been "My child" or "My dear"; always her name—Ruth. It probably still wouldn’t help. He had deliberately saved it for last. The little grating in the door, the sense of constant inspection, worried her. ’ ‘Very well, Melusine, you win,’ Gerald said unguardedly, and dug his hand into his pocket. At last, she breathed. ’ Gerald gazed at her without expression. From beginning to end it was first-hand stuff. Annabel passed on with a strained nod to her sister, and Sir John’s bow was a miracle of icy displeasure.
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