Cheveney walked away with a shrug of the shoulders. Contenting himself with brandishing the weapon in the Jew's eyes, he exerted all his force to prevent him from rising. She crouched beneath a stump, her extremities twitching as the sun set orange and blue beyond the lace of iron-black trees. The coachman having received his order, and being offered an extra fare if he drove quickly, set off at full speed. ‘You have something more to tell me?’ Jack grinned. ‘And since the entire company and Pottiswick himself were unable to find hide nor hair of the infernal French female—’ ‘English, Hilary,’ Gerald reminded him.
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