” “I don’t know who you are,” Ennison said quietly, “but you are a thundering liar. “Mr. ‘I knew you would be furious. Her mind invoked her husband, who she imagined lying dead in a ditch somewhere, tortured and killed by brigands or perhaps eaten by creatures like herself, a fate he actually deserved. ‘Nothing would do for her but to come here,’ grumbled Hilary, wiping his heated brow with a pocket handkerchief dragged from his immaculate white uniform breeches. He was a little embarrassed.
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