CHAPTER XXII Every morning at dawn it was Spurlock's custom to take a plunge in the lagoon. “A sex of blacklegging clients. He kissed her again. The boy was bright and inquisitive as he was subtle. The assassination, as you call it, was, obviously, the vengeance of a kinsman of the injured lady, who no doubt was of good family, upon her seducer. But at this, he halted, turning his frowning gaze back on her. “He just wants to get laid, you know. Besides these, there was a sturdylooking fellow, whom he instantly recognised as the honest blacksmith who had freed him from his irons at Tottenham. Something about the girl had suggested an idea. ‘Silence,’ he warned again, with a prod of the dagger at her heart. Nigel, do you know that I have been very jealous?” He avoided the invitation of her eyes. He was always in a state of semi-intoxication, but he was always gentle with me.
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