” “It would suit me. “Shit!” John quickly countered, “What are you going to do? She’s a motor-mouth, Lucy, of the worst kind. She's my mealticket. Mrs Sindlesham’s wrinkled cheek had paled, and her eyes were fixed upon Gerald in a look that wrung his heart. She gulped for air merely, for it had been difficult to breathe with his hand almost cutting off the supply to her lungs.
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