1. Her mind invoked her husband, who she imagined lying dead in a ditch somewhere, tortured and killed by brigands or perhaps eaten by creatures like herself, a fate he actually deserved. " The Wastrel rushed. Of course, this does not apply to uninteresting old maids," Prudence modified with a dry little smile. But whatever she may have said was lost as Gerald pinned her to the wall, the point of the sword at her throat. No one spoke, and she was impelled to flounder on. He must never refuse her anything which was within his power to grant—anything (he modified) which did not lead to his motives.
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