’ Mrs Ibstock’s lips tightened and she looked away a moment. Lucy aimed the firearm at Rhea’s chest. ‘That’s wicked, that is. "Begone, wretch!" cried the mother, stung beyond endurance by his taunts; "or I will drive you hence with my curses. The well of tears in her eyes was dry. Gerald lost his head. I didn't expect you home before that hour, Sir.
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