’ ‘Who is that?’ demanded Lucilla eagerly. He could see lust virtually dripping from the dark-haired boy’s maw as she teased every last note from her shuddering violin, the devil in a black skirt. “Now,” he said, quietly, “it’s time we stopped this nonsense. He jumped back, cursing. Sorrows and danger and disappointment she had known. He looked down and met them.
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