Jack Kimble stiffened, looking at his interrogator with wary anger in his face. It’s no good hiding it any more. Ramage controlled his expression and thought very quickly. After all, where prayer fails, a pistol is bound to succeed. ‘Why?’ ‘Why take me to France? Why trouble himself with me, when so easily he could leave me to this Monsieur Remenham to keep?’ To Melusine’s instant suspicion, Martha bit her lip, drew a breath, and avoided her charge’s gaze.
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