’ ‘Not, I trust, Nicholas Charvill?’ ‘Hardly. Sebastian crouched on the floor with a single dead victim, a young highwayman. It had her raven locks, her pouting lips. "Here I am, Captain," cried a voice from without. The fates are never so kind to me. “Ann Veronica,” he said. "I knew he would," replied the Amazon. That's a queer yarn.
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