“Pellissier,” she repeated thoughtfully. It is I who took the burden of your misdeeds upon my shoulders that you might become Lady Ferringhall. Plote was sleeping or deaf. ’ Kimble gaped at her and Melusine struggled to pull herself out of the shock. ‘And just who is Leonardo?’ ‘How in God’s name should I know?’ demanded Roding irascibly. It was filled with sopping lichens and green benches too slimy to sit upon. Pure romantic nonsense on her part.
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