‘It is in no way your affair, monsieur, and you will unhand me at once. And put ‘em in little books for remembrance. But whatever she may have said was lost as Gerald pinned her to the wall, the point of the sword at her throat. Only a few weeks ago there was a bloody battle on the bridge there between the soldiery and the local police. Supper was spaghetti and Italian sausage that night.
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