In one of the cabins a man sat on the edge of his narrow bunk. "Who—who is the Marquis de Chatillon?" "Your adopted son, Thames Darrell," answered Winifred. She felt herself shaking again. ’ She tried to shake his hands off her wrists, but Gerald held them fast and tutted at her. He noted that she was fully dressed, that her hair was carefully done, that there was a knotted ribbon around her throat.
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