"What shall we do, Poll?" hesitated Edgeworth Bess. ’ ‘You mean I need not have said it? Damnation. Not then. Women never throw themselves into each other's arms; they calculate the distance and the damage perfectly. ’ ‘With ease, mademoiselle,’ he countered, catching her blade. ” He smiled, and she felt love for him in that moment as the smile lit up his ebony eyes, eyes whose blackness seemed unfathomable.
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