His gaze drawn, Gerald watched him dip to pick up a crushed square of white linen and a starched object that resembled a helmet. Weeks hurled past, weeks that turned into months. I did it in self-defence. But I don't understand her; she's over my head. Little more’n a week. ’ He closed the panel and came slowly out of the little dressing-room, Roding at his heels.
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