’ A tiny giggle escaped her, and she lowered the pistol a trifle. ‘She’s an eviltempered little termagant, yes, but there’s no malice aforethought. Here I am as an alternative either to nasty work—or going home. Lord Charvill champed upon an invisible bit for a moment or two, closing the gap between himself and the girl, and muttering the name to himself in an overwrought sort of way. He placed his chin upon the top of her head. To the Seven Cities of Refuge Jack proceeded.
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