" "At Tyburn, eh, Mr. " "By Heaven!" cried Kneebone, with increasing fervour, "it is true—as true as my affection for you. I'll forgive him if he does. It has instead found you. You’re a lady all right and tight, and nothing anyone does can take that away from you. The taste of his sweat was intoxicating, like sweet brandy, like blood. Of late, however, his plotting had assumed a more dark and dangerous complexion. “Alone, dear?” “Yes, aunt.
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