’ ‘As a matter of fact, it isn’t,’ conceded Gerald. He stood by her side, and he suffered her hands to rest in his. I’ve never met any one like you. She had been obliged to spend the night in that fateful bedchamber, the faithful Kimble—who had foraged at a nearby inn, bringing back a large pie and a jug of porter for his mistress—guarding the door outside. The lips were straight and pale, the chin aggressive, the nose indomitable. ‘She obviously likes Leonardo.
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