‘And so?’ she asked. All the turnkeys rose to salute the thief-taker, whose habitually-sullen countenance looked gloomier than usual. He grabbed her wrist and prised the weapon from her fingers, ignoring her other hand that clawed at his to try to retain the trophy. Sheppard, eagerly. A single false step might have precipitated him into the street; or, if he had trodden upon an unsound part of the roof, he must have fallen through it. I thought that I was marrying Meysey Hill, not that creature.
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