‘Do you not understand that I can trust no one—no one?’ ‘That is a pity,’ Gerald said, rising to face her. The man is a stranger to me. Do so; and I am yours as heretofore. I hadn’t heard of him before the trial. The Wastrel—as we call him—cannot play when he's sober; hands too shaky. She had decided that she would begin with her pearl necklace.
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