His gaze drawn, Gerald watched him dip to pick up a crushed square of white linen and a starched object that resembled a helmet. The monster, Wild, when he visited my dungeon last night, told me, to add to my misery, that she occupied a cell near me. ‘Moi, je vais vous tuer!’ ‘I don’t think so,’ Gerald said through his teeth. She is your sister, and God knows I wish her none.
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