Spurlock lay with his head on his arms, asleep. You can enjoy him and then drink him up. ‘You mean that his missus is pretending to be my mistress? Lord-a-mercy!’ ‘Precisely. ‘Beg pardon, sir?’ asked the sergeant, evidently mystified. She was radiant. She was trembling a little. They’ve just got to keep white. It was a moment or two before Gerald realised that he could feel the fluttering of her pulse beneath the light touch he had on her wrist, and that her fingers were trembling in his. He was a fool.
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