I thought my sister and her murdered husband dragged me hither, to this very room, and commanded you to slay me. It was your sister who married Sir John Ferringhall the other day, wasn’t it?” Anna nodded. And behind— there was Paris, memories of amazing things, memories which made his cheeks burn and his heart beat quickly as he sat there waiting for her. ‘You speak as if you expected to meet her again, Gerald.
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