The thought of Capes flooded her being like long-veiled sunlight breaking again through clouds. When Gianfrancesco came to call this time, she was excited and ready. “Don’t be childish, Annabel. You see, the horse it does not belong to me, nor to the nuns. It was a moment or two before Gerald realised that he could feel the fluttering of her pulse beneath the light touch he had on her wrist, and that her fingers were trembling in his.
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