” “What do you mean—by too late?” he demanded. This done, he unloosed the pulley, and the ponderous machine, which resembled a trough, slowly descended upon the prisoner's breast. During all their long comradeship he had never so much as ventured to hold her fingers. To his consternation, she was holding an unwieldy, ugly-looking pistol, all wood and tarnished steel, with both hands about the butt. To recreate the era, I deliberately tried to avoid creating a thinly disguised bodice ripper where an “empowered” woman mouthed off to prospective suitors in jerkins and tights, in other words, a typical romance novel. . A short flight of steps brought him to a dark passage, into which he plunged. And in those days, too, he used to help her mother with her gardening, and hover about her while she stood on the ladder and hammered creepers to the scullery wall. "Better than your company, Saint Giles," replied Sheppard; "so, shut the door, and make yourself scarce. He HAD followed her! What had he followed her for? He must have followed her all the way from beyond Grosvenor Square.
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