Lucy entered the room. At the recollection that it was his, she seemed to fall through a thin surface, as one might fall through the crust of a lava into glowing depths. For heaven’s sake, give him some Madeira or something, Gerald! Anything to calm him down. I had already won wars and sailed ships to distant lands by the time I was thirty. "How long shall I be here?" he asked. She was not squeamish—although the sight of the sergeant’s ominous preparations had severely tried her fortitude—but Kimble’s white face plagued her conscience. Doesn’t matter a bit to me.
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