” Sir John stamped his letters, brushed his hat, and carefully gave his moustache an upward curl before the looking-glass. He allowed his irons and clothes to be taken off without resistance. “So far you’ve got me and I you. Spurlock, filled with self-mockery, sat in a chair on the west veranda. Blueskin might have butchered you and your brat before I'd have lifted a finger to prevent him, if it hadn't suited my purposes to do so, and he hadn't incurred my displeasure. He unlocked himself from her embrace. “Soon enough, John.
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