The picture in her mind altered and she saw again the way Gerald had looked with consternation upon the bruises he had inflicted on her wrist. She was mentally transported for an instant to the old castle in Herculis. I’ll have to think of something else. It could only mean one thing—that her foster daughter was both a whore and a murderer! When Sheila confronted her about it, it was five in the morning. “I am afraid,” she said, “that he must have a skeleton key to these rooms. ’ ‘Excellent,’ Gerald had approved.
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