She closed the book that she had been pretending to read and gathered her black umbrella and her backpack, a childish accoutrement she despised. ‘Don’t fob me off, boy. ’ Triumph soared in Gerald’s chest. "That is good. The Jacobite. “Well,” he said, argumentatively, “it IS. E. When they reached the door, he kissed her 246 again. Folding his arms, he placed his back against the door, and burst into a loud laugh. ‘—and I love your raven hair, and your bright blue eyes, and your very kissable lips—’ suiting the action to the words ‘—and I love the crazy way you speak English, and the way you curse at me. And we won’t make it so. Then he took the pulse.
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