He glanced up at Roding and met his eyes. "Ah! I see. "The worst house in the neighbourhood—the constant haunt of reprobates and thieves," groaned Wood. From the first of these alighted Thames, or, as he must now be styled, the Marquis de Chatillon. She pushed between the pews, hoping to reach the sword first, while desperately holding on to her petticoats to keep them up, as her sword arm wavered.
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