His gaze drawn, Gerald watched him dip to pick up a crushed square of white linen and a starched object that resembled a helmet. Not a word was uttered by the assemblage; but a hush of expectation reigned throughout. “There’s endless reasons, no doubt, why we shouldn’t,” he said. The gun flew from his hand, clacking on the floor. A gust of irrational impatience blew through her being.
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