"I beg pardon," he said. ” She put her wrists upon his shoulders, feeling him surge with the pride of his own masculinity as she touched him. He was no match for Brendon. ‘First I must see Jacques, and—’ ‘No need for that,’ intervened Roding, grasping her arm and trying to drag her to the door. ” She barked. It is not for myself I fear. Ten thousand steeds appeared to be trampling aloft, charged with the work of devastation.
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