She crawled underneath the soft white sheets, reclining and pulling the blankets up to her chin. “Nigel, don’t you understand. Preparations were next made for taking Thames on board. ‘But who was he, Gerald?’ ‘A damned condottiere,’ exploded Gerald, forgetting his company. ‘You are really not helping matters, my friend. All the sombre visions she had been pressing back, fighting out of her thoughts, swarmed over the barrier and crushed her.
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