Sheppard, falling on her knees. Shame and electricity coursed through her veins, flowing directly from him in a flash flood. ‘Dieu du ciel, is this a way to have me say yes? If it is that you do not wish to, why do you ask me?’ ‘Ah. He left that arid rule clear of the least mist of refinement or delicacy. It's precisely the same thing to me to bid my janizaries cut Thames Darrell's throat, as to order Jack Sheppard's execution.
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