For her mother to betray her seemed inevitable, but the betrayal seemed worse than her fate. The scent of cloying pine dust filled the air as floodlights shone eerily through the jungle gym of new wood. ’ ‘Did no one know, then?’ ‘No, for the vicomte, we learned later, wrote to General Lord Charvill in pursuit of his sister. He threw her on the bed. ‘Jacques, do not go!’ Jack gazed steadfastly at the floor. A common rage flushed their faces.
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