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She drew a chair to the window and stared at the splendour of the tropical night. He had hurt her. It was eleven o'clock. He tugged at the overly large hooded sweatshirt, which she unzipped and let fall to the ground. Wood was not particularly fortunate in his own matrimonial connections. ‘There’s a surgeon on his way, and my men are under orders to do whatever is needful. It seemed to him that a sort of mist had risen up between them. ’ ‘Do you tell me you think you can outwit Gerald? I wish I may see it.
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