"You've perjured yourself. “Troubles, my friend,” she exclaimed lightly. He was conscious of a quickening of his heartbeat and the familiar rise of adrenalin that sent his senses soaring in anticipation. Thames took it, and beheld the portrait of a young man, apparently—judging from his attire—of high rank, whose proud and patrician features certainly presented a very striking resemblance to his own. She felt surges of longing escape every corner of her flesh. " "But you will,—won't you?" she rejoined, looking him coaxingly in the face.
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