‘You ought to be glad someone cares enough about your wretched little neck to try and save it. Either it was an unfortunate recovery of a trail, or he had followed her from Mayfair. The slim knife was wrested from her grasp, and she was flung backwards, towards the bookcases. "You call in vain," rejoined Thames. His hair was thick and brown and his skin was fair. “Tell your sister she was right to shoot, quite right. She battled with a deadly faintness, and she tottered rather than walked back to her seat.
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