‘Maybe not,’ Gerald conceded, ‘but I’m damned if I herald my approach with a lot of unnecessary blundering about in the dark. He glanced up at Roding and met his eyes. He stood upon the threshold, dangling his eye-glasses in his fingers, stolid, imperturbable, mildly interrogative. "Tell him that I—his adopted son, Thames Darrell— am detained here by Jonathan Wild. ‘Precisely.
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