’ Gerald laughed and clapped him on the back. “It is possible, mademoiselle,” he said, “that this affair is not yet ended. But, let's see the prisoner. I’m taking no chances. " Bamboo and bead tinkled and slithered behind him. He looked like a French boy soldier she had once glimpsed marching towards his death in one of the battles they would later call the Hundred Years War. ‘She’s terrified. ‘Charvill?’ uttered Roding frowningly. He looked at his port wine as though that tawny ruby contained the solution of the matter.
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