She said it audibly, having learned long since that an audible prayer was a concentrated one. Brother and Sister VIII. A spot of colour, brighter than any rouge, burned on her cheeks. There was a pause, while the steel grey eyes sliced at her. ‘You heard Gosse—I mean, the man you know as Valade?’ ‘Clear as day, miss,’ he uttered. It was hard to meet that gaze.
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