He tries hard to conceal it, but he cannot. She pointed hither and yon, smiled and shook her head. ‘Whither away, mademoiselle?’ he said grimly, ungently grasping her arm above the elbow. How perfectly charming. His breath grew shallower as he approached the room, conscious of the loudness of his hallway-reverberated footfalls. ‘Who kills who?’ ‘Rot in hell,’ he snarled, panting, and managed to push himself forward and leap off the dais, running for the safety of the far aisle by the wall.
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