‘I would read your body,’ he whispered, and lifted her fingers to his lips. She had once reconciled in her mind that she was happy as long as she had him. ’ ‘Poor little devil,’ said Gerald, genuinely sorry for her. . Must be plenty of work for you to do. He stood up abruptly and went to the window. Joe, my foster dad, was a heroin and booze addict. ‘Something in that, missie. The odds were astounding and yet he had it bad.
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