Ruth stared into the painted face, now sundrily cracked by the coursing tears. Recovering herself, Melusine tucked the weapons out of sight, down into the deep holsters hidden under the petticoat of her riding habit, and went back into the house where Martha awaited her in some impatience. “You know what a fearful old prig Ferringhall is, always goes about as though the whole world were watching him? We tried to show him around Paris, but he wouldn’t have any of it. Somebody to depend upon her; somebody to have need of her, if only for a little while. ” There followed an instant’s pause, and then Ann Veronica had decided to misunderstand. There was a discreet knocking at the door, and Ramage’s face changed.
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