"The worst house in the neighbourhood—the constant haunt of reprobates and thieves," groaned Wood. Michelle tossed her hair like a young colt flicking its tail. "What do you think of your nephew, Sir Rowland?" whispered Jonathan, who sat with his back towards Thames, so that his features were concealed from the youth's view. . ‘And it may interest you to know, mademoiselle, that the first thing Gerald must needs do on reaching town is to rush off to that convent of yours to make sure you were safe. The taste of his sweat was intoxicating, like sweet brandy, like blood. With his arms bare, the neckband of his shirt tucked in, he laboured. D'ye hear.
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