On a bench at the foot of the trees, with a pipe in his mouth, and a tankard by his side, sat the worthy carpenter, looking the picture of good-heartedness and benevolence. ‘Certainly no one will find it. “I’ll go. I’ll get in trouble. ” She had not, she reflected, remembered how prominent his eyes were. She grasped at the right one, massaging where his grip had been and Gerald hoped he had not bruised her.
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