Burn your palette and your easel. ” She looked at him quizzically and shrugged. The horse-soldiers wheeled round and cleared a path: the foot closed in upon the cart. Her anger died and she eyed him. Arrived in the plantation she sat down with her back against a tree trunk. ” Diane purred. And, if ever I'm brought to the gallows, I shall lay my death at her door. I—well, I borrowed Anna’s name.
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