In fact, it had been anciently the right hand postern under the gate leading towards the city. The lady reseated herself, watching him expectantly. This island was the one haven he had; he might be forced to remain here for several years—until the Hand had forgotten him. “Please forgive me coming up, Miss Pellissier, but you have not been down to dinner for three nights, and—Brendon and I—we were afraid that you might be unwell.
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