She was not afraid of violence, but she was afraid of something mean, some secondary kind of force. She put a hand to the lad’s cold cheek and choked on a sob. "Aye—to pretend to her that you don't care. Even that he was an interfering person, if he walked through that door this moment, she would fling herself at him and weep all over his chest. ’ ‘Merci, Gérard,’ Melusine muttered under her breath, adding aloud, ‘And the major, he will also wish that you let me go to see Jacques. “Well, hello there.
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