’ ‘Of course I am, imbecile,’ she snapped, unconsciously echoing her greatniece. How many nuns were there in England who might have occasion to spy on Lady Bicknacre’s ballroom? The presence of the French refugees took on greater significance. She had worn a long skirt that morning, and a roomier sweater that was slightly easier to handle than Shari’s low cut numbers. The tall, blond boys, right?” “That’s them. "Can I help you, Jack?" asked Thames, taking up a plane.
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