Her long arms handled the sword with a memorized ease and grace. She calls him a pig, and she says he ain’t Valade. And here he was, but a hundred yards away, this wastrel who trailed his genius through the mud. Perhaps an hour passed before she laid aside the book. Next instant, Gerald felt his wrist seized in an iron grip. " "And what is that?" "I have relatives not far from Hartford. His mind was filled briefly with psychic images of a charnel house that danced like a spider in his head. Following her lead, he fortified himself with a swallow of the excellent Madeira before responding. She decided not to ask him outright if he wished to make love to her.
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