‘He lacked moral fibre, did Nicholas. She brought her hands up to her head and ripped out two long chunks of her hair, pulling out shreds of scalp. It was not as bad a wound as she had at first thought, and the blood was only oozing now. For a moment, Kneebone had hesitated about giving the signal to Shotbolt, but, thinking a more favourable opportunity might occur, he determined not to hazard matters by undue precipitation. Guiding this man of hers over the troubled sea of life had engraved these lines. I do not know.
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