“Lady Ferringhall, sir. In others, she acts with the speed and surety of the loosed arrow. Herculis was a port city on the Tyrrhenian Sea not far from where the manor had been. There was nothing left now of the selfassured, prosperous man of affairs. She hoped the lights would become hot enough to melt her into the floor. Oriental rugs adorned the sea of shiny hardwood floors, kept polished with an eye for detail that bordered on Japanese.
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