’ ‘How do you know?’ Lucilla repeated, almost as sceptical as her intended spouse. ” “Would you mind telling me,” Anna asked, “how long I knew you in Paris?” He looked at her sideways. Did he intend to kill her now, this instant? Or had she a moment or two to try to save herself? Recalling Leonardo’s dictum, she did not struggle, for that would only tighten the trap about her, and perhaps even spring it. This was no night for the indulgence of dreamy musing.
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