The struggle had dislodged the white wimple, which was evidently too large for her, and her black hair broke free, whirling like a whiplash about her head as her hands curled into fists, coming up to beat at his chest, her little teeth bared for attack. Gerald’s temper flared. She gathered stones to place upon the makeshift grave. The man pulled up his horse grumbling, and turned round. Besides, my husband has shares in Sir John’s company. Give me the keys and the light.
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