’ ‘Dieu du ciel,’ burst from mademoiselle as she jumped up. She traced him by his scent. Life is so good. ‘But who was he, Gerald?’ ‘A damned condottiere,’ exploded Gerald, forgetting his company. ’ Her breath tightened and she was obliged to control an inner ferocity. ’ ‘By all means,’ agreed Lucy at once, and ignoring the automatic protest that issued from Roding’s lips, she threw a command over her shoulder as she turned to go.
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