” The corners of her mouth rose in a weak smile and she gave him a wink. In this room was my ruin begun: in this room it should be ended. But to draw the attention of the milice, no, that is not at all desirable. How can he help you?” She threw such a look upon him that even he, Sir John Ferringhall, carpetmerchant, hide-bound Englishman, slow-witted, pompous, deliberate, felt his heart beat to music.
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