He pulled on her shoulder, bringing her mouth to his in a kiss. ‘Well, what was I to think, miss? Martha never wrote nothing about you, and I did ask. "You've been quizzing my friend Kent, I perceive, in your Burlington Gate. Jack Kimble. You will make him get his daughter, if you please. 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. Everything in this world changed—except human folly. I told her I was sick today and she told me to get over myself.
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