He knocked his pipe on the teak rail. “I”—he seemed to have a difficulty with the word—“I love you. Perhaps Gerald was not as clothheaded as he had thought. It was his redemption, his ticket out of hell—that blue-serge coat. She swallowed hard. ‘You’re right. ‘They weren’t no soldiers. So, step by step, and hurt by hurt, Ruth was learning that John Smith was John Smith and nobody else. “I’m very shy, and I would like to opt out if you don’t mind.
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