3. ’ ‘Parbleu, it is I who am the idiot?’ she scolded furiously, removing one hand and digging it into her sleeve. ‘You’ve cause to be grateful to Gerald, then. You’re not to go. ‘And it is perhaps not so necessary that I do so, because Joan has told me of another who may like to say I am the daughter of Mary Remenham. Or he would find something—a wave in her hair, a little line in the contour of her brow or neck, that made an exquisite discovery.
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