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... ble with my fingers.
“Are you mad I took too long in the restroom? I couldn’t find it,” I murmur sheepishly, breaking the silence first.
The pastries sit on the table forlorn.
“No,” he responds, curt as ever. “What is it you wished for me to see?”
It’s a well-timed change in subject and mood, and none too soon, as I see Lady Arabella garbed in black take the stand.
The crowd’s mutters reach my ears.
“All black? What bad luck,” someone tutted.
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