‘Jacques!’ Melusine dropped to her haunches beside his inert form, feeling for the wound. "In wine there is truth. Shall I send him to Sir John?” Annabel was white to the lips, but her anger was not yet spent. His arms released from his 68 sides, he lifted them around her in a light embrace. “And as for praying for faith—this sort of monologue is about as near as any one of my sort ever gets to prayer.
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