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. "But we'll find a way to make you open your lips presently. “How crude you are, Anna!” she exclaimed with a little sigh. Her soul was full of the sense of disaster. Pile it on! But if you can hear the voice of the mote, the speck, don't let her suffer for anything I've done. Jonathan, however, still lingered.
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