A chain, riveted to an iron belt encircling her waist, bound her to the wall. "Spring!—I never knew any. Was she so fearful still? Roding shrugged and grimaced. Entranced, he stared at the name. She had been in the drawing-room for a few minutes before the gong had sounded, and had chattered gaily to every one. He was conscious of a quickening of his heartbeat and the familiar rise of adrenalin that sent his senses soaring in anticipation. . . Only identity, and a chance to be someone other than a nun.
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