’ *** Martha sniffed dolefully, scrubbing at her reddened eyes with a large square of damp linen. ’ ‘Oh, is he?’ Gerald said grimly. He drifted in and out of consciousness. Recognising the handwriting, he glanced swiftly at the signature, and uttering an explosive curse, cast the paper from him. There were sidetables and a writing table, similarly buried in bric-a-brac, and the chair by the French doors could hardly be seen for blankets. I proved myself early as an athlete, skills I retained long after my return home.
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