Aware of the footman hovering, and the hackney coachman’s curious eyes looking down from his box, Gerald leaned a little towards her and spoke in a lowered tone. He heard the panting of the donkey-engine, then the slithering of the anchor chains. He arrived at 6:29 sharp on the night of the Junior Prom. “Why? Do you think I’m a stoner?” He asked. It was as much as I could do to prevent him flying out of the house there and then and coming after you.
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