It can wait a bit longer. Mrs Sindlesham’s wrinkled cheek had paled, and her eyes were fixed upon Gerald in a look that wrung his heart. It was always jabbing him with white-hot barbs, waking or sleeping. And through all these defences and into Old Palace Yard, into the very vitals of the defenders’ position, lumbered the unsuspected vans. "He is dying?" whispered Ruth. Yet the smoke was curling upwards in a faint innocent-looking cloud to the ceiling.
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