He turned, expecting to see his wife. He brightened as she took off her hood. ’ The core of hurt rose up, tearing at her insides. It's precisely the same thing to me to bid my janizaries cut Thames Darrell's throat, as to order Jack Sheppard's execution. She entered the front hall, formerly magnificent, now faded and dusty, the old wood table waiting for guests who would never come. She released her clutch on it as, dizzy with exhaustion, she leaned against the back of the pew and closed her eyes, her fingers grasping out automatically for support. But I don’t wish to hear that abomination on her lips again. " "Who are they?" inquired Sheppard.
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