“It does nothing but sit there. "Who—who is the Marquis de Chatillon?" "Your adopted son, Thames Darrell," answered Winifred. Rhea laughed and lunged for the broadsword that Sebastian had carelessly left lying on the ground. She opened her suitcase—new and smelling strongly of leather—and took out of it a book, dogeared and precariously held together, bound in faded blue cloth and bearing the inscription: The Universal Handbook. “Endless. He was nearly wincing.
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