Gerald’s gaze bored into hers. "From Lady Trafford's, where I took the box. ‘You mean that his missus is pretending to be my mistress? Lord-a-mercy!’ ‘Precisely. He felt himself collapse heavily onto her naked body, still inside her. A short way off in the fields he descried a sort of shed or cow-house, and thither he contrived to drag his weary limbs. "My heart," rejoined Thames, firmly; "which now tells me I am in the presence of his murderer.
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