Lamotte put up his own sword, looking relieved at the cessation of hostilities. “Teaching you to fight, as I promised.” Teaching her to fight? Teaching her to dance was more like it! He was big enough to break her in two with his bare hands if he felt like it. Why then would he not fight with...
His brow creased in thought, he wrote his signature on the bottom of the letter with a flourish, and sealed it with a drop of cheap shellac on which he imprinted the marking of his seal ring. “Give it into Anna’s hands yourself, if you can,” he said, as he rose to his feet and handed it to Davent...
she asked, pointing to one of the marks at random, a wavy line that looped around in circles that somehow seemed central to his explanation, though she couldn’t quite see why. She would have been better to keep her mouth shut. Pierre tossed his quill down on the table and looked at her in exaspe...