His countenance was pale as death, but not a muscle quivered; nor did he betray the slightest appearance of fear. Her family had hosted a feast in his honor for which they had taken weeks to prepare: with braised capons and lobster sausages and all sorts of delicious spiced stews her mother had made from secret recipes. " "Nothing," echoed Wood furiously. ‘Who is that man? What has he to do with you? No, don’t tell me. “I think,” began Ann Veronica, “that you don’t realize—” He disregarded her entirely. .
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