In the struggle the pistol went off, but without damage to either party. He certainly bore inspection. It is you who took my name, not I yours. This child was frequently disconcerting. ‘Don’t want it to break out bleeding again. You are my slave—and such you shall continue. Recognising the handwriting, he glanced swiftly at the signature, and uttering an explosive curse, cast the paper from him. She appeared not to have realised the implications of her outburst, but clung a little to Gerald’s hands which had taken hers in a comforting clasp. ‘That’s wicked, that is.
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