For the first time he seemed to wonder what it might be that she had to confess. The doctor walked over to the bed, folded his arms across his chest and stared down into the unabashed eyes of his patient. She wet some absorbent cotton with alcohol and refreshed his face and neck. ‘But my poor Jacques is wounded and—’ ‘All taken care of,’ interrupted Hilary. \"Shhh! He rolled onto his back again, raising himself in alarm. " "It matters not who I am," replied Jonathan, taking the money.
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