Spurlock lay with his head on his arms, asleep. She felt sickeningly empty. Marina doted over her pregnant daughter, adorned in fine brocades, reassuring her that it was certain to be a either a baby boy or a girl of such great beauty she would eclipse them both. “Would they make her Queen?” She asked innocently. Presently he began to weave a tale, sorry enough, with all the ancient claptraps and rusted platitudes. ” “I wanted to, John. But send me word.
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