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She looked at them over the rim of the cup. There was a moment of stillness when she could see her own horror and misery etched clear on the faces of them all. They had thought that she would save them.
Then John cleared his throat.
‘You did your best, milady,’ he said gruffly. ‘It was far more than that miserable cur Malvoisier would do for us. Don’t you go feeling bad about that.’
Muna gripped her hand hard. ‘He would not even do it to save Sir Henry? Oh, Nan…’
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