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She dropped beside the chair, sat cross-legged, and laughed at the futile jade-coloured wall. "He has heard of your wonderful escapes, and wishes to see what you're like. She did not see Sebastian turn towards the boy and his family, but every hair on the back of her neck stood up rigidly. ‘Pray you, mademoiselle, can you not—’ ‘No use trying to enlist Lucilla’s aid,’ snapped Roding. Your laugh reminds me of—of——" "Whose, Sir?" demanded Jackson, becoming suddenly grave.
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