So often as she had herself manipulated a dagger, she could not mistake the shape that pressured across her chest, or the sharp point that dug below her bosom. "You are the son of Sir Montacute Trenchard, of Ashton-Hall, near Manchester. "Don't be angry with me, Thames," continued Sheppard, in a tone calculated, as he thought, to appease his companion's indignation. ‘I have no idea.
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