He sat down on the sill of the open window, folded his arms, and stared straight before him for a long time over the wilderness of tiles and chimney-pots into a sky that was blue and empty. Just as he got on the roof of the prison, St. Wild's. But they were too late. You understand me, Charcoal. I—I am a lovesick idiot, and not accountable for my actions. ’ ‘Yes, I’m sorry about that,’ Gerald uttered in a rueful tone.
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