You must think it over. “You might at least,” she murmured, “have invented a more romantic reason. From a scout stationed at the northern entrance, whom she addressed in the jargon of the place, with which long usage had formerly rendered her familiar, she ascertained that Blueskin, accompanied by a youth, whom she knew by the description must be her son, had arrived there about three hours before, and had proceeded to the Cross Shovels. There was a certain air of forced fortuity in his manner. This will be safer than cutting his throat on shore. He seemed to be hesitating between two courses of action. A small handgun bobbed at the end of it, aimed at Sheila. A strong arm pulled her closer, and the lips that mouthed her own in tender touches sent her senses reeling. So Mrs. “Miss Ellicot!” Brendon echoed.
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