” 243 She felt a mixture of embarrassment, humiliation, and pride well up in her cheeks, flushing them. ” He took them from her and read them. “It is a great art,” she said in broken English. Every gibbet at Tyburn and Hounslow appeared to have been plundered of its charnel spoil to enrich the adjoining cabinet, so well was it stored with skulls and bones, all purporting to be the relics of highwaymen famous in their day. I could not have spoken to her. She took up a book and threw it down again. As she crossed the square, almost within a stone’s throw of her lodgings, she came face to face with Courtlaw. And now the fiend Gosse had taken even that away from her. “Yes. An ugly flush stained his cheeks.
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