” “When is Michaelmas Day?” said Ann Veronica, a little abruptly. Had he had the child to think of, he might have recovered from his grief at Mary’s death. ‘But who was he, Gerald?’ ‘A damned condottiere,’ exploded Gerald, forgetting his company. When he was concentrating, deep shadows formed under his gray eyes. When she spoke, her lips twitched. "And you have seen … drunken men?" Prudence's tones were full of suppressed horror.
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