Brown broke the silence. She could not say who, not yet. ’ ‘You traitor, Gerald,’ laughed Lucilla, her yellow curls bouncing under a huge straw bonnet all over flowers. Who could say that the two weren't in collusion? When a chap like Spurlock jumped the traces, cherchez la femme, every time. ‘But she will not shoot you,’ Melusine told him flatly.
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