” “I don’t know who you are,” Ennison said quietly, “but you are a thundering liar. Come along, master. Beck, it smells wonderful in here. "I am your most unhappy son. ’ ‘Do you indeed?’ rejoined the old lady, twinkling at him, and urging him towards the door. She had fled back to Florence quite intent on slitting the new bride’s throat. But it doesn’t alter the situation. Gerald had been confident that the boy would not dream of disobeying an order thrown at him by a major of militia, but he guessed Jack might be wondering if he was about to be haled off to prison. Please don’t tell anyone, mister.
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