‘I am Major Gerald Alderley of the West Kent Militia. God knows how you did it. Here we are absconding, pretending to be what we are not; shady, to say the least of it. She made a curious movement toward her niece, then suddenly, convulsively, she dabbed down something lumpy on the table and turned to follow her brother. There was nothing to replace the all important letter from her father. He barely shook the rose petals from her hair. ‘I’ve finished me report, sir,’ Trodger said aggrievedly.
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