” A momentary bitterness crept into Anna’s tone. It was an intimate smell, the unmistakable scent of him and another woman. Sir John followed her gaze, and also saw them. He glanced at Ruth (who had stood with her back to the wall, pinned there throughout the contest by terror and the knowledge of her own helplessness), then at the bronze menace, and calculated correctly that this particular adventure was finished. His glances were hard to disguise as he scanned her periodically during class. "Bring him out, Quilt.
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