Wearied at length with thinking on the past, and terrified by the prospect of the future, he threw himself on the straw with which the cage was littered, and endeavoured to compose himself to slumber. Annabel passed on with a strained nod to her sister, and Sir John’s bow was a miracle of icy displeasure. "If I escape, I will reward you. He growled in his throat and, thrusting his coat open, revealed his own buckled sword-belt. That’s my advice to you.
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