It's gin—a liquor you used to like. ’ Authority had won again, Gerald thought with satisfaction. I have no intention of arresting you. . She had been obliged to spend the night in that fateful bedchamber, the faithful Kimble—who had foraged at a nearby inn, bringing back a large pie and a jug of porter for his mistress—guarding the door outside. She began to miss him when he was gone during the day and cherish the quiet times he spent only with her.
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