Michelle was in sight, Lucy could hear her voice, high in the crowd, and saw her blond head bobbing among a sea of faces. There was granite in her face and agate in her eyes. He hoped he would get to see the two suitors face off over Lucy. Anything. And, snatching the spike from Thames, he struck the janizary a severe blow on the head. For a pity, she has chosen to remain, and it has been her death. The young lady—if she had come in here at all—had vanished. I am. Through a blur of tears Ruth followed the rocking light until it vanished.
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