Her pulses began to race. He must know she’ll be at a convent. ‘If you will not tell me about Valade, so be it. The whole incident was so unexpected that neither Courtlaw nor Brendon were awaiting. He reappeared in street clothes, his cropped hair not even damp from the shower, fresh-faced and sweetsmelling. To be near someone, even someone who made a pretense of friendliness, to hear voices, her own intermingling, would serve as a rehabilitating tonic. “I knew you wouldn’t mind.
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