She returned home through a world that was as roseate as it had been gray overnight. At least here she was safe. He swore that I was his wife, and—I shot him, Nigel, as his arms were closing around me. Opals. If only she had thought to plunge the scissors into her own heart! Hoddy … to return and find her either gone or dead! But even as the Wastrel's arms gathered her, there came the sound of hurrying steps on the veranda.
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