’ Captain Roding grinned. But before the child could be committed to her care, it was wrested from the carpenter by Rowland. She inhaled a deep breath of air—London air. “You may not leave. We'll get those books into your room first. His was the Latin turn of thinking; he had fallen in love at thirteen, and he was still capable—he prided himself—of falling in love. Righting, however, instantly afterwards, she scudded with the greatest rapidity over the boiling waves, to whose mercy she was now entirely abandoned. ‘She won’t confide in you? Now, why?’ ‘Because that scoundrel Leonardo drummed it into her head that no man was to be trusted,’ Gerald announced viciously.
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