" The knight staggered as if struck by a mortal wound. Forgetting the dark thoughts of his last brush with the girl, he dropped the dagger back in his pocket, quickened his pace, and went back into the house to look for his hostess. ‘But for how long?’ Lady Bicknacre asked apprehensively. ” She smiled, sure of herself beyond any pretending, into his troubled eyes. "When in France, I heard from the Marshal that his brother had perished in London on the night of the Great Storm. It was easy enough to lie to anyone else.
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