’ Thus adjured, but mindful of Trodger’s orders, the militiaman went down the hall backwards, his eyes fixed on the prisoner. ‘You speak as if you expected to meet her again, Gerald. The taste of his sweat was intoxicating, like sweet brandy, like blood. ” Annabel shrugged her shoulders. The minute he discovers Roding here, he’ll know something is up. The idea of anything criminal never entered her thoughts.
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