‘Did you sigh and flutter your eyelashes?’ ‘Certainly I did. The books would be soaked and ruined in the rain anyway through the thin skin of the pack. He shivered and looked behind as he stepped into his hansom. ‘Good God! Everett Charvill, as I live. He was holding the ring to the light, and narrowly examining the inscription. On your own. If you recall, Gianfrancesco’s second cousin had been ransomed by a family they had feuded with for hundreds of years.
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