It was as much accident as anything, but she had killed him. He looked like a French boy soldier she had once glimpsed marching towards his death in one of the battles they would later call the Hundred Years War. Besides, I'm afraid her simple honesty will spoil any invented yarn. ’ ‘About me?’ The lady’s lashes fluttered and her fan came up. He felt he was human wisdom prudentially interpolated. ‘But tell me this instead.
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