Gerald noted the lady’s eyes brighten as she caught sight of him making his way through the throng towards her. She barely heard a word that Martin or Brown said, until Martin’s voice chimed. She wallowed for a time in the thought of Capes, unable to escape from his image and the idea of his presence in her life. It had felt wonderful to pick up the fiddle again. “Your friend, “DAVID COURTLAW. The Leads. Suddenly the Wastrel took hold of the edge and flung the table aside. I will go with you.
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