I only wish he was not a Papist and a Jacobite. “Rubbish!” he answered. “Beautiful these autumn flowers are,” said Ann Veronica, in a wide, uncomfortable pause. There was only one clean spot in the picture—the ship's wash (all white) that fluttered on a line stretched between the two masts. A chill ran through his frame, and, grasping the heavy weapon with which chance had provided him, prepared to strike down the first person who should enter the cell.
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