’ ‘Lucilla,’ gasped Hilary, his cheeks reddening with wrath. I'll bet you haven't given her a bucket of paint in three years. It was the first expression of the mother's blood. With his arms bare, the neckband of his shirt tucked in, he laboured. ’ Chapter Five ‘Now then, young Jack,’ Gerald said, turning to the lad, who was sitting in the place lately vacated by his self-appointed mistress, but in a state of far less relaxation.
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