" "It was her own fault," observed Blueskin, moodily. The water was cold but she waded deeper. Jack Kimble stiffened, looking at his interrogator with wary anger in his face. She had never expected John capable of saying such things, of thinking such macabre ideas. ’ Gerald cast a swift look up the corridor, but there was no one there, not even a shadow. He tried not to think—of Ruth with her mother's locket, of her misguided father, taking his lonely way to sea. ” “It’s very kind of you—” began Ann Veronica.
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