Valade stood his ground, holding the doorjamb, and facing up to the general. The door opened. “No, I am alone,” she answered. "Can you pull him through?" was the anxious question. ’ ‘Useful certainly. As she did so, the ruffles to the jacket of her riding habit fell away, exposing livid blue bruises about her wrist, ugly in the light of day from the window at their back.
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