" "What for? What do you want of them?" "Why, they are … yours. Your life, and that of your child, are in my power. Wood?" "With pleasure," replied the woollen-draper. " "Your own was equally so," said Jackson ironically. She felt anger at Sebastian, anger at the thrill that she felt in her loins upon seeing him, anger at herself for never having the courage to end her own life. That had taken her by surprise, and her tired wits had failed her. He was Julian five years younger, the spitting image. "Where's Thames?" he hastily inquired. She helped Jack to sit down, and dragged the jacket off him, lifting his shirt to expose the gash that had sliced across his side. “You cannot say that you did not expect me,” he answered. ‘What in the world is that?’ demanded Miss Froxfield.
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