\" Diane Vorsack chirped with the grin of a Cheshire Cat, extending her right hand in greeting. It was apparent, and then it faded into the quality of an inevitable necessity. You’re dealing with me now, not Gerald. It’s true. ‘All right, Trodger. She had hardly noticed the loss of her dagger, so strong had been the waves of relief that attacked her on hearing that Jack had returned from death’s door. Anna left the room on tiptoe.
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