. ’ Taken aback, Gerald let out a short laugh. “A silly little priestess who knew nothing of life at all until she came to you. “You remember the man in Paris who used to follow me about—Meysey Hill they called him?” He nodded. I will have nothing to do with you. They were loath to admit to the public that the case would be closed in a few years for sheer lack of forensic evidence. He smiled grandly; she could feel the radiance of his approval from across the wedding table. She'll be mighty interesting to watch. It was a precious thing, a beautiful cabochon—do you know what that is?” “What’s a cabochon?” “It’s a precious jewel that doesn’t have facets yet.
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