” “If it were all true,” he said doggedly, “it may still be possible. She loves you too well for that. ” Lucy walked out of her bedroom door following Mike down the tiny hall. Knap. ’ ‘So I infer. My name is Ferringhall—Sir John Ferringhall. ‘I’ll play you at your own game,’ he growled, holding the foreshortened foil in place with rigid control.
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