‘Your wife?’ ‘My wife,’ he repeated, rising also, his smile mocking her. Even given that he was hopelessly enamoured of the wench, a fact which was obvious to the meanest intelligence. H’m. ’ ‘Tchah!’ He glared at her. ‘Danged if I ever hear the like,’ he repeated blankly. His apparel was sumptuous in the extreme, and such as was only worn by persons of the highest distinction. Annabel Pellissier was not like the others, he said.
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