" "I see. She gazed steadily out of the window at that arc of glittering lights. Faintly bothered by what it might mean, Gerald rose from his seat and crossed to the tray to pour himself a glass of wine. Somewhere in the world would be his people, perhaps his mother; and it might soften the bitterness, of the return to consciousness if he found a woman at his bedside. It was the blood she found that cemented her decision that her foster daughter was a criminal.
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