She tried gentle words with him, beguiling perfumes, even slipped aphrodisiac tisanes into his soup. No good at all. Only she hadn’t. “He took my arms and legs!” She lifted the rock from Rhea’s torso. It was a motor accident—a fatal motor accident the evening papers called it. ’ She gestured at his hand, on which Roding’s makeshift bandage had been replaced by a more efficient one.
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