She tried not to blush. He turned irresolutely to the table upon which lay the scattered leaves of his old manuscripts. She was ashamed of herself for the simple gladness she felt wash over her as the infant’s screams ended. “It is not possible,” he exclaimed. “You must play for us again sometime. Do you think a jeune demoiselle may possess more weapons than this?’ ‘Most young ladies would not be in possession of any weapons,’ Gerald said tartly.
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