’ *** It must have been fate, Gerald decided, near an hour later, staring intently at the closed French windows on the raised alcove that led out to the terrace. “We are, or rather we were, so much alike then that the portrait of either of us would have done for the other. The arm about her was steel hard, and she felt the weapon that was placed at her heart, which thumped uncomfortably in her chest. The streets were full of colour. " "Your prisoner!" echoed Jonathan, derisively. 5.
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