“His jowls jiggled, and he slapped the table, nearly upsetting his teacup. For his part, Gavin nearly whipped his sword from his belt to chop the man’s hand off for such effrontery. His fingers itched to dig into the fat man’s neck and snap his vertebrae one by one. The bastard was— He ground his teeth and pushed the thoughts back. Not now. Perhaps it was the plague running away with his emotions, or perhaps it was his own reaction to a man mocking his Alice. In any case, he was in control here.... He shot a glance at Phipps, who looked perfectly calm, and at the guards, who also remained perfectly calm. No, wait—that wasn’t true. Gavin studied them sidelong. The one with the pistol . . . his left leg was jumping up and down just a little, and tiny movements in his face said he was chewing on the inside of his mouth. He was nervous, very nervous, and trying to hide it. The older man, the one with the sword, was calmer, but he was as coiled as a clockwork spring.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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