’ Gerald drew his breath in sharply as Lord Charvill took a step towards his granddaughter, thrusting out his head. “Are these ordinary sapphires?” she said. The Pursuit. Edward Bribble stood between them with an open book. “I would have given up anything to see you your old self again—as you are this evening. The Wastrel—as we call him—cannot play when he's sober; hands too shaky.
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