‘Do please continue,’ Gerald begged, deceptively docile. All at once she realised that Kimble had halted, leaning heavily against the wall. ‘Monsieur, my wife intended not to anger you,’ he said in a tone of apology. "Quick. She did not see the metal pole swing toward the back of her skull, nor did she feel her own blood spoiling her light hair after the dull crack of metal broke her flesh.
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