“You see the pointer?” he asked. The last of Jarvis’s harlots must have departed in a hurry, for she had apparently left a roomful of clothes. The release was so great that she felt tears spring from her eyes. Sir Rowland, who had continued absorbed in thought, with his eyes fixed upon the sloop, as she made her way slowly down the river, disembarked more leisurely. ‘Stand where you are, or I shoot!’ Like lightning, thoughts zipped through her mind.
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