“I looked for you on the way home from The Big Apple, where were you?” Lucy smiled. 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. I want my freedom. Never had he corrected her with hand or whip, the ring in his voice had always been sufficient to cower her. Fritz flailed against his mother wildly, crying generous tears.
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