He pulled her from him to kiss her on the mouth and paused, looking into her face. ‘And it is perhaps not so necessary that I do so, because Joan has told me of another who may like to say I am the daughter of Mary Remenham. You denied it, remembering that I had called myself Anna. At night she would turn it in her fingers like a rosary bead. ‘What do you mean?’ Gerald grinned. Should be home soon. ’ ‘Where are we going?’ ‘Back to Blaye, my girl.
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