“Nigel is like all men,” Lady Lescelles continued. ‘What, and miss getting myself murdered?’ ‘She said she wouldn’t murder you. A hand of iron fell upon the scowling young man’s shoulder. There’s that old gentleman at the end of the table—Bullding his name is. She would be haunted by the visions of their mad faces in her dreams for the next hundred years. A hansom stopped a little way off. The bus however was full. “Cut her throat!” Sebastian snapped. ‘But a spy I am not. She sat in a chair in the parlour and regarded the darkening sky through the small casement window.
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