Gosse had moved forward, his pistol arm out straight, his aim true, the gun cocked. Left alone with Edgeworth Bess, Jack burst into a loud laugh of exultation. It felt wonderful and golden to bask in the sunlight of their approval, even if their approval was fickle and dangerous. There was no such a thing as perfection in a mixed world. ‘A spitfire, ain’t she, sir?’ Roding ignored this. Know that, don’t you?’ ‘Of course I know it,’ Lucy told him, and Melusine read the whisper in her mouth of those precious words, ‘I love you. And now, my love," she added, with a relenting look, "I'm content to make up our quarrel. Now you will learn the result. Well, I don't blame you on that ground.
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