You're easy to please. Melusine approached with caution and sat warily at one end, looking up at him expectantly. Annabel passed on with a strained nod to her sister, and Sir John’s bow was a miracle of icy displeasure. His face, as he looked down where his hand sought for a weapon concealed in her petticoat, was so close that she could see only the line of his firm jaw, the drag of his powdered hair that drew it into the military pigtail, and the black ribbon that adorned it.
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