“Ass!” he went on, still warming. She felt the bedsprings coil as he moved from his seated position, entranced. Then he looked across at Mrs Sindlesham. ‘What in Hades d’ye mean, thanks to me? Want to blame anyone, blame that rapscallion who calls himself your father. On their return, the jailers raised up Jonathan, who was weltering in his blood, and who appeared to be dying.
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