I am one of those people who are interested in women, more interested than I am in anything else. His gaze drawn, Gerald watched him dip to pick up a crushed square of white linen and a starched object that resembled a helmet. Wood, furiously. But she could not live in constant association with him without having these gaps filled. ‘Ah, the tragedy. ‘But how do you come here?’ ‘Down on a routine patrol, unluckily for you,’ he answered grimly. I'm thinking that the Wastrel was one day a celebrated professional; and the women were partly the cause of his fall.
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