‘I am Major Gerald Alderley of the West Kent Militia. A siphon and a whisky bottle stood before him. Nothing has been touched since. “John, you were never bound to me, you don’t owe me anything. I don’t want to get old or to watch my kids get married or retire. It was necessary to think, and think quickly. It was not a cambric curtain Ruth had drawn across that part of her life: it was of iron. " "Murdered!" ejaculated Winifred. But I vowed that Ruth should never suffer the way I did—and do. Crouching down, Gerald waited, hands at the ready. He was helpful, but gravely dubious.
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