They may love us, but they love us as the slave loves his captor, not as equals. ‘I feared as much. ‘What, is Nicholas dead?’ He saw the two of them exchange glances and an instinct of danger rose up. Stay! I'll go myself. You’re dealing with me now, not Gerald. ’ ‘Comment?’ she demanded with some heat. He mumbled an apology and then stopped short. “You’re just a boy! You grow moody and spellbound, John, and the next moment you are ecstatic.
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