“Miss Pellissier,” Brendon said gently, “I am afraid that some fresh trouble has come to you. “Slavery! Downtroddenness! When I think of it I feel all over boot marks— men’s boots. You never can go back. Some years ago, in 1715, just before the Rebellion, I was rash enough to league myself with the Jacobite party, and by Wild's machinations got clapped into Newgate, whence I was glad to escape with my head upon my shoulders. . "Sir Cecil is no more. It was a unique experience for her to wash him. No; she'd never go back. He too looked at the girl, slackened his pace and looked at her again through his eye-glasses, looked over his shoulder after he had passed, and finally came to a dead stop.
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