Annabel passed on with a strained nod to her sister, and Sir John’s bow was a miracle of icy displeasure. There he sat as before, with the heavy fetters on his limbs, and beside him sat his three companions, who had since expiated their offences on the gibbet. And so Winifred understood him. His fingers slipped under the collar of her linen shift and he tore it open with a swipe.
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