But never had the hand touched her with a father's caress; never had he taken her into his arms; never had he kissed her. ” He extended his hand. ‘Forgive my not rising to greet you,’ she said, holding out a claw-like hand. She flung herself back into the bare little room, cold, empty, comfortless. Now, you and I can gossip at a gate, and Honi soit qui mal y pense. ‘Do you think because you’ve managed to pull a gun on me—not to mention several daggers and a vicious little knife— that you can get away with it against a man who means business?’ ‘Do you think that the trigger I would not have pulled, or stuck the dagger into you, if you had not been as you are?’ she countered. ” She looked at him with fluttering eyelids—sweetly grateful.
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