Wasting no time, he crossed straight to the shutters and opened them. ‘By traitors I am surrounded!’ ‘Stop talking utter twaddle,’ ordered Roding, marching up to the desk. "They're about to murder your child —your child, I tell you! Do you comprehend what I say, Joan?" "I've hurt my head," replied Mrs. She wondered if he was already tired of her, if he would rudely push her away as one would a prostitute.
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