She pulled her chair with a mild creak and marched towards the stair. " "Two can play at that game, my blood," replied Sheppard, rising, and putting himself into a posture of defence. Jonathan mixed with the group, and, sure of his prey, abided his time. To Gerald’s eye, the refugees therefore presented a rather forlorn little group, almost huddling together and chattering in low tones in their own tongue. She warmed to him fast, her anger was much harder to carry than the pleasant everyday neutrality of affection.
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