He waited for an instant, wasting an encouraging smile in the imperfect light, and then shut the doors of the van, leaving the women in darkness. ‘Not yet, madame. She did not realize that she was offering criticisms. ‘Do you not understand that I can trust no one—no one?’ ‘That is a pity,’ Gerald said, rising to face her. ‘Why did you kiss me?’ ‘I don’t know,’ Gerald admitted. Her mother brewed potions to scent her hair, sweet balms of anise for her lips and hands, told her wonderful secrets, some decidedly un-Christian. " "But, mother, mayn't I sit up to see whether Thames returns?" implored Winifred.
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