A spot of colour, brighter than any rouge, burned on her cheeks. "I cannot—dare not injure him," rejoined Trenchard, with a haggard look, and sinking, as if paralysed, into a chair. When she awoke from a pleasant dream an hour later, she was shocked to find herself restrained in a bed that was not hers and not the inn’s. "You've won your wager. Lucilla shoved Roding out of the way so that she could take hold of Melusine’s hands again. ‘The old man who lives here, idiot.
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