But I was portentous, I can assure you. ‘Where’s the sense in running away?’ ‘Doesn’t trust me,’ Gerald said briefly. Her companion was a portly handsome man, also dressed in a full suit of the deepest mourning, with the finest of lace at his bosom and wrists, and a sword in a black sheath by his side. The Becks were the best foster family that she had ever had.
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