" "Not at fisticuffs, perhaps," interrupted Jack, fiercely; "but I've my knife. The soldiers! They must not find her here. I sometimes laid away my father's clothes in his trunk. . "How old are you?" demanded Miss Prudence. Automatically, she glanced at the slight red graze left on her neck that marked the point where Gerald’s sword had nicked her. ‘Not from the nuns, no. Shall I send him to Sir John?” Annabel was white to the lips, but her anger was not yet spent.
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