"Bring him out, Quilt. Things that you and the nuns would not think about for—’ She stopped, biting back the words “for a young girl”. Darting forward at this sound, Jack threw open the door, and beheld Quilt kneeling over Thames, who'se hands and feet were bound with cords, and about to plunge his sword into his breast. He was reaching wearily for some kind of buffer to his harrying conscience. “I love your sister.
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