The Mohocks. The passion of pent-up speech compelled action of some sort. You see, I kidnapped poor Jack and made him promise to send me word if you went careering off anywhere. And since then, he has openly avowed his determination of cutting his master's throat on the slightest inkling of treachery. ‘I would read your body,’ he whispered, and lifted her fingers to his lips. You see, I—I am a woman worshipper.
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