" "It is too late," returned Jack, sullenly; "I can't be honest if I would. "Enschede!" he called. The major’s hand stilled. "I would treat him as you treated his father, Sir Rowland. Her fingers clutched the side of the door as though to steady herself. Griffin. Her mind invoked her husband, who she imagined lying dead in a ditch somewhere, tortured and killed by brigands or perhaps eaten by creatures like herself, a fate he actually deserved.
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