Listening on the dimlit landing, he saw Roding’s face muscles tighten. Only I just want him. In the midst of them there was a cart with a man in it—and that man was Jack—my son Jack—they were going to hang him. ’ Trodger had started towards the stairs, signing to his men to get behind the lady. ‘Laisse-moi. Almost worthy of your own fertile imagination. Or I should have made love to you long ago.
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