Her momentary instinct was to run to him and be comforted, like the old times. She tied the obi clumsily about her waist, then gently laid her hand on the bowed head. His face warm, Captain Roding glared them into silence, and firmly marched his captive off down Piccadilly, heading for Stratton Street where the town house of the Alderley family was situated. He allowed his voice to drip with sympathy. ’ Gerald considered. Murder had become nothing to her. “You did your best to kill me,” he said.
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