' 'He's dead,' Seena said brusquely. “You believe my life was naught but horses and women. It was an expedition, he affirmed, that he would never forget; he ended his comments rather awkwardl Her father, too, had died fighting the Spanish Catholics; Willem van Valkenborch had established the fi
' When they reached the farmhouse, walking down the land between the eight huts, a tall Dutchman, broad of face and open in manner, came out to greet them: 'I'm Marthinus van Doorn. At last, his face relaxed and he smiled, his eyes full of merriment. Maybe I should fictionalize this. Coincidence, she told herself again.
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