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He was indeed still in the throes of his bewilderment. From the first of these alighted Thames, or, as he must now be styled, the Marquis de Chatillon. Cathy's eyes widened, her cheeks expanding to a smile. He leaned towards her as though anxious to see more of her face than that faint delicate profile gleaming like marble in the uncertain light. “I knew that you waited at the farmhouse. They walked side by side for a time. ’ Jack blinked. We simply can’t get away.
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