His face, as he looked down where his hand sought for a weapon concealed in her petticoat, was so close that she could see only the line of his firm jaw, the drag of his powdered hair that drew it into the military pigtail, and the black ribbon that adorned it. She stole her glances sideways like the rest of the women. ‘How did you know that Mary was his daughter?’ Gerald hesitated. He had changed her life dramatically, and she had missed him dreadfully. “Very,” and cracked a walnut appreciatively.
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