She had removed her hat and utterly disarranged her already unruly black locks by running agitated fingers through them. Morals only begin when that is settled. ‘You dare to come to me? What do you wish of me? Why have you come? I do not want you!’ She swept round on Gerald abruptly and he braced for the onslaught. She had found it in 1988, the year of the stock market crash. The boy she had loved was gone.
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