‘So it would appear. The nurse sent for him as soon as she saw that you were conscious. ’ ‘You traitor, Gerald,’ laughed Lucilla, her yellow curls bouncing under a huge straw bonnet all over flowers. Without a word or a gesture, the Wastrel turned and staggered forth, out of the orbit of these two, having been thrust into it for a single purpose already described. If she mentioned Ramage he might have a fit—anything might happen. But nobody drinks on my island unless I offer it, which is seldom.
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