She spoke with an entirely false note of cheerful offhandedness. “I see nothing of my sister,” she said. "But, if you are discovered, answer no questions, as you value your life. Wood, then, beheld two persons, one of whom he recognised as Rowland, spring on board the chase. He worried me to marry him. And, lastly, to the Seven Cities o' Refuge, in the New Mint. How can he help you?” She threw such a look upon him that even he, Sir John Ferringhall, carpetmerchant, hide-bound Englishman, slow-witted, pompous, deliberate, felt his heart beat to music. It is just the aim I have had in view all the time. He had changed her life dramatically, and she had missed him dreadfully. That wasn’t even the worst thing. Shakily, she rose with the sword and drove it through Rhea’s heart.
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