It was Annabel who spoke. Every gibbet at Tyburn and Hounslow appeared to have been plundered of its charnel spoil to enrich the adjoining cabinet, so well was it stored with skulls and bones, all purporting to be the relics of highwaymen famous in their day. Gerald lifted an eyebrow. I’m that shamed to confess it, miss, but it were then I thought of Martha.
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