This island was the one haven he had; he might be forced to remain here for several years—until the Hand had forgotten him. ‘I am Major Gerald Alderley of the West Kent Militia. But this chap is good wine yet. Do have another. ” Hill looked up at him, an unkempt, rough-looking object, with broken collar, tumbled hair, and the blood slowly dripping from his face. " "Forgive you!" echoed his mother, with a look radiant with delight.
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