I do not love any one. Dizzily, she grabbed at the mantel for support and, resting her head on her hands, paid no heed to a betraying sound behind her—until an unexpected arm encircled her. "But to drag this innocent child into the muck! With her head full of book nonsense—love stories and fairy stories! Have you any idea of the tragedy she is bound to stumble upon some day? I don't care about you. ‘Soi-disant? Then he is not Valade?’ ‘How can I know?’ she countered crossly. 5. The Mohocks XII.
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