She could feel Martin’s eyes boring into her as she entered the room, her own personal Farhat. But he was at last persuaded that I mean you no harm, and that I might—just possibly, since I am both a gentleman and a major of militia—be able to be of more assistance to you than he himself. She dropped the manuscripts and swiftly brought the coat to him, noting that a button hung loose. Not wisely but too well.
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