” With a little crash the pistol fell from her shaking fingers. Most of the vessels lying in the river were driven from their moorings, dashed tumultuously against each other, or blown ashore. And, if ever I'm brought to the gallows, I shall lay my death at her door. “You do not know what you say. His eyes were bright, and his voice had in it an unaccustomed timbre. Vitally, she had the letter that proved her identity as a Charvill: the one her father had written to the Abbess when he sent her to the convent.
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