In truth, Sheila never saw Lucy murder anyone at all, she only saw the blood. By a sort of instinct. He allowed his voice to drip with sympathy. ’ 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. His fingers slipped under the collar of her linen shift and he tore it open with a swipe. Mr. ‘I’ve had enough of this.
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