Having ascertained by the breathing which room Thames occupied, he speedily contrived to fasten him in. The thief-taker's throat was bound up with thick folds of linen, and his face had a ghastly and cadaverous look, which communicated an undefinable and horrible expression to his glances. Spurlock stared at Ruth across the rim of his bowl. ‘No, my poor guardian,’ Gerald mocked. Get on, do. ‘Don’t concern yourself, Hilary.
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