. I was helpless. ‘What in God’s name do you think you’re playing at?’ ‘Let me alone, man,’ Gerald muttered under his breath. You must tell me what it all means. To dream and to labour: to you, my labour; to Ruth, my dreams. Gerald glanced down and saw her dash at a spread of blood on his own hand, only now realising that her dagger had found its mark. She was trying by some wonderful, secret, and motionless gymnastics to restrain her tears. Click the link below to join and download your free copy of FATED FOLLY http://eepurl.
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