” Lucy finished Michelle’s sentence and steeled her resolve, drawing herself up to a straighter posture. The smells of skewered fennel, roast chicken, and broiled pheasant saturated the air, and she could smell other wonderful aromas about them. “It’s not for us to supplicate any more. Too late. When she looked into their eyes, her despair put her beyond tears. A common rage flushed their faces. Whilst she was wondering how to frame her request for an advance, Mr. The door crashed back against the wall inside and both men hurtled into the room, weapons at the ready—and stopped dead.
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