‘A spitfire, ain’t she, sir?’ Roding ignored this. “Steady on!” he cried. She inhaled a deep breath of air—London air. But who would pay the ransom? There was no one left in his family. “Serves you right if I’d cracked your skull. If only she had thought to plunge the scissors into her own heart! Hoddy … to return and find her either gone or dead! But even as the Wastrel's arms gathered her, there came the sound of hurrying steps on the veranda.
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