His five o’clock shadow was bristly against her fingers. Red velvet curtains rustled under dim lights as the door shut with a heavy snap. Gerald reached out a hand to stop her. Gosse sagged under the impact, knocking over the card table, and falling to sit, half stunned, the discharged pistol flying from his slackened grasp. Her hand grasped it firmly, and she pushed herself forward. "There is something in The Tale of Two Cities that is wonderful," she said.
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