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. “Could you play ‘Fiddler on the Roof’?” father Thomas pleaded. ‘I’m a soldier, missie. "All my life I've dreamed of something like this," he said, divertingly, with a gesture which included the yacht. At this place of refuge, situated in the heart of Wapping, near the river-side, he arrived in less than an hour, in a complete state of exhaustion.
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