That had taken her by surprise, and her tired wits had failed her. But she no longer felt Jacomo’s age, even if she looked it. " Trenchard, meanwhile, whose gaze was fixed upon the boy, became livid as death, but he moved not a muscle. Swiftly following the sound of knocking, she crossed right and passed through a door near the windows—and found herself in the bookroom. She went down, feeling rather than seeing the way. ‘Fiddle, Gerald. I guess. Her mother was a goddess to her all through her youth, the mysterious ruler of all things beautiful and wonderful and lunar, her eyes that glinted spectral blue, as if she had the knowledge and the magic to raise the very dead.
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