She was breathing hard, dragging for air, half in fright and half because the sudden effort had used up what little air she had managed to draw so briefly. Annabel passed on with a strained nod to her sister, and Sir John’s bow was a miracle of icy displeasure. As she crossed the square, almost within a stone’s throw of her lodgings, she came face to face with Courtlaw. But his eyes were on the Frenchman, and as Valade moved up the other road a little way, the lad shifted alertly, and swiftly closed the distance to the intersection.
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