He could not possibly lunge in the confined space, and so had nothing to do but back himself into the chapel as fast as he could. His gaze drawn, Gerald watched him dip to pick up a crushed square of white linen and a starched object that resembled a helmet. The colour slowly left her cheeks, the lines of her mouth hardened. The expression was wholly different. I hope we may never find her again. They say it hasn't been opened for eight years—but I won't be eight years in getting out of it. I cannot protect you.
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