She had imagined that prisons were white-tiled places, reeking of lime-wash and immaculately sanitary. She touched bow to strings, playing a fifth. “You know,” he muttered, “you know quite well that your troubles are far more likely to weigh upon me than my own. Spurling. Let your father—if he chooses, leave all his wealth to his adopted son. ’ Gerald opened his eyes at her.
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