‘It had better not be, by God,’ had barked Captain Hilary Roding. ’ A strangled sob escaped her as his thumb dug cruelly into the soft flesh of her wrist. ‘Pray you, mademoiselle, can you not—’ ‘No use trying to enlist Lucilla’s aid,’ snapped Roding. Loneliness—something that was almost physical: as if the vitality had been taken out of the air she breathed. All of a sudden, there was movement behind him. " "Murder him!" cried Trenchard shuddering.
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