’ ‘I’m that sorry, miss,’ Kimble said glumly. She was perhaps three-and-twenty, and very pink and healthy-looking, showing a great deal of white and rounded neck above her business-like but altogether feminine blouse, and a good deal of plump, gesticulating forearm out of her short sleeve. She had been warned time and time again by Sebastian that fame would mean the end of her freedom, being hounded in to the next lifetime by vampire and power seekers.
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