She was not afraid of violence, but she was afraid of something mean, some secondary kind of force. There is a new life, different from the old life of dependence, possible. “Forgive me,” he decided to say at last, and his voice had a little quiver of emotion, and he laid his hand on hers upon her knee. ” Annabel shook her head. ‘But who was he, Gerald?’ ‘A damned condottiere,’ exploded Gerald, forgetting his company. ’ Hilary’s gaze was raking the room.
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