What is it you’re after? Money, I suppose. He was angry. 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. " "Lead the way to it then, Saint Giles," said Jack, in a tone of mock authority. ‘What the devil for? I’ll have one of the men ride the creature up tomorrow.
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