But I do not need that Gérard attend. ‘Hilary, thank God! Have you a pistol about you? Or better yet, your sword. ‘Come along. David Courtlaw—Sir John Ferringhall. ” Anna shook her head. A sound sleeper, she was not roused by the creaky openings and closings of drawers as Lucy packed a single duffle bag with underwear and soap that was pilfered from a multipack of Zest in the Beck’s downstairs bathroom.
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