‘Pray you, mademoiselle, can you not—’ ‘No use trying to enlist Lucilla’s aid,’ snapped Roding. His name was Bartolomeo di Alberti. It was a hoax, it was the only thing possible, until she heard Cathy say, “Let me hold those for you. She leaned over and kissed his cheek innocently. You can’t do that sort of thing unless you do it over religion, and there’s no religion in me—of that sort—worth a rap.
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