" "That is to say, you wish you had let me die?" "That was the thought. . ” He leaned back for his soup. She untucked his starched shirt, running her hands along his smooth torso and underneath his arms. “No, John, you won’t understand. But he was at last persuaded that I mean you no harm, and that I might—just possibly, since I am both a gentleman and a major of militia—be able to be of more assistance to you than he himself.
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