" "My death will lie at your door," remarked Jackson to the carpenter. “I cannot pretend that I am glad to see you, Lady Ferringhall,” he said quietly. There was no longer any risk in association with her. If you owe your confinement to me, you shall owe your liberation to me, also. It’s on the horse. No, not one little bit. ” “And mine,” murmured his companion, with the smile still lingering upon his lips.
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