‘Laisse-moi. A chill rain thrummed against the sides of John’s car, having slowed from deluge to steady patter, the snow was 158 dissolved where it lay. ‘But the major—’ ‘The major can say nothing at all. ‘You will not, pig,’ cried Melusine. The picture in her mind altered and she saw again the way Gerald had looked with consternation upon the bruises he had inflicted on her wrist. ‘You said it.
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