You are—horrible. ‘I kissed you once, didn’t I?’ Her pulses jumped and she stared. His reputation was slightly tainted by his marriage to her mother, an exotic blue-eyed raven-haired beauty, a Gypsy doll with a clandestine heritage. Ann Veronica considered her answer. The horse-soldiers wheeled round and cleared a path: the foot closed in upon the cart. Curiosity to see what a sing-song girl was like took possession of Ruth's thoughts.
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