Her eyes were soft and blue, arched over by dark brows, and fringed by long silken lashes. A spot of colour, brighter than any rouge, burned on her cheeks. Nor was he long in making it available. He caught the smirk. ” “Have I done something wrong? Should I take you home?” “No. The Master of the Mint. The sun was all but gone now, the horizon a deep shade of purple. He shall expiate his offences on the gibbet.
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