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His lovely black eyes softened until they became like languid as the night sky. He would repeat them innumerable times, and patiently Ruth would repeat her answers. Detention was merry for the other detainees. Cursed him for his devotion that had made him come back for her, only to get himself shot by the fiendish Gosse. ‘Would you like me to enquire for your mystery lady, Gerald? I know the Comte and Comtesse de St Erme quite well. You cannot care for her. . ’ ‘Or she imagines that being half English is the same as being completely English,’ suggested Lucilla.
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