Wood strained his eyes to catch a glimpse of the flying skiff. She turned away from the doorway of the silk loom to observe. “It’s fine, Michelle. But you had better know the truth to start with. Not one of them but bore the marks of having been engaged in a recent and severe conflict. A spot of colour, brighter than any rouge, burned on her cheeks. A shaft of searing heat plunged downward.
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