“Are you cold?” He asked her, cocking his head to one side like a puppy, so close that the heat of his words warmed her cheek. "Halloa, widow!" shouted a rough voice from below, "where the devil are you?" Mrs. ’ ‘Then you will die at the hands of the canaille. A shudder rippled across his shoulders. “Don’t be too sure of that,” she answered enigmatically. “I have had a trying evening and I need rest. Thames did not attempt to offer him any consolation, for he was almost as much dejected.
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