Gerald had been confident that the boy would not dream of disobeying an order thrown at him by a major of militia, but he guessed Jack might be wondering if he was about to be haled off to prison. She flung herself back into the bare little room, cold, empty, comfortless. ’ ‘Comment? You wish to murder me?’ ‘No, I wish to beat you,’ he retorted. " "No. Lucy clutched the pencil in defeat. The books slid from her arms and fluttered to the floor. Think better of it.
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