Lucy grabbed the hand cannon, stuffing it with powder, nearly missing a swing of the sword meant for her neck. She patted John's head with her palm, its surface appealingly fuzzy. ‘All these soldiers,’ she complained, adding with a sweep of one arm at the major’s dress, ‘all of them in red as you. . Lady Angela shrugged her shoulders. She would not be driven in by this persistent, sneaking aggression. .
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