She was retuning, fifths spilling from the sliver of light underneath the door like milk. I thought I’d see Paris, do the thing—like a toff. You come with those clear eyes of yours, as valiant as an angel. ‘Do not look at me so,’ he snapped. ‘Seems to me, missie, as you’re as dangerous a female as I’m like to see. Hollo rumbled in his throat.
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