Conscience was always digging sudden pits for his feet and common sense ridiculing his fears. All human food tasted equally dead and loathsome to her, whether it was prime steak or cheap hamburger. ‘Well, I can see you won’t let it alone, so what do you propose to do about the wench?’ ‘I’ll die before I let it alone,’ Gerald vowed. The door opened. It was evident the lady’s servant knew his mistress, for he had come equipped with a tray upon which reposed a decanter and two glasses. There was only one prisoner in the ward.
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