He now understood her interest in Taber, as he called himself: habit, a twice-told tale. A thin mist lay on the river, giving the few craft moving about in it a ghostly look. The hotel manager was expostulating and Ah Cum was replying by a series of expressive shrugs. ‘Would it so? What sort of a girl is she, then?’ ‘She’s a consummate devil,’ Gerald declared roundly. ‘The gatehouse? But why must you move him at all?’ ‘Listen, missie. Their faces had bite marks that were hers.
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