"And now, to your own concerns. F. "Choose, Jack. He pressed the long shapely hand warmly in his. The man’s passion became almost unbearable at the thought of losing her. ‘How could I know that it is you?’ She peered at him in the darkness. “But you’re wrong. ” She gasped. "This gash," he added, pointing to one of the larger scars, "was a wipe from the hanger of Tom Thurland, whom I apprehended for the murder of Mrs. “Look at our affair,” he went on, looking up at her.
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