"It was that song that put it into my head to cut my name on the beam. ’ For a moment Gerald said nothing at all. "It's a fine idea, my child, but you mustn't do it. I hope that she is okay. There was one verse that haunted and mocked her. His gaze drawn, Gerald watched him dip to pick up a crushed square of white linen and a starched object that resembled a helmet. ‘Dreadfully untidy, is it not? Can’t abide bare rooms. And all this time perhaps you have been waiting, expecting to hear from me.
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