And one must—some of it must slip through one’s fingers. ‘Shocked you, have I? We weren’t mealy-mouthed in my day, my boy. Anna stared back at every one with undaunted composure. ‘Because he knows you for an imposter,’ Melusine flashed. ‘Idiot!’ ‘Enough, now! Softly, you little termagant,’ he ordered, seizing her wrists to hold her off. Her fingers clutched the side of the door as though to steady herself. It is I who took the burden of your misdeeds upon my shoulders that you might become Lady Ferringhall.
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