She dreaded living off the land again, like an animal, as she had done for dozens of years at a stretch. Her mouth lolled open and drool seeped down one corner. I’m not a bit afraid of anything—scandal, difficulty, struggle. No mercenary consideration influences me. ’ *** It must have been fate, Gerald decided, near an hour later, staring intently at the closed French windows on the raised alcove that led out to the terrace.
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