We are alone and we can say and do what we please. What of Gosse, whom those soldiers had allowed to escape? Hiding—or perhaps gone. Stanley admired and detested him in almost equal measure. When she came to, she was lying with her head in Martha’s lap, and a livid bruise was forming at the point of a raging headache. All characters and events in this publication, other than those clearly in the public domain, are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
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