‘A spitfire, ain’t she, sir?’ Roding ignored this. ’ ‘A pox on the creature,’ swore Mrs Sindlesham, clenching and unclenching her stiff fingers. “What is going on between you two?” Lucy asked. ‘Always he is busy about my affairs. Covering his face with a crape mask, and taking the candle from his associate, Jack entered the room; and, pistol in hand, stepped up to the bed, and approached the light to the eyes of the sleepers.
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