” “How are the Becks doing? Are they okay?” He smiled. “You found the cabochon? After all these years?” He asked, incredulous. . The fire—if there was any in him—never made headway against this insistant demand to know the significance of these manifold inward agitations. Her lover surely did not 223 understand the implications of what he had asked for and his lust blinded him to the realities of existence even now. ’ She fairly pushed at Gerald, who grinned and gave in, moving back to the still open door. .
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