He tore it down just as the Wastrel rose, wavering slightly. She met the keen grey eyes of a clean-shaven man, between forty and fifty, quietly dressed in professional attire. Satisfied he was immobilised for the moment, Melusine fell to her knees beside Jack, dragging at his suddenly heavy body to turn it on its back. He believed me when I asked him to marry me. "I'll place it to your account, Sir Rowland," answered the thief-taker, smiling significantly.
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