“My husband!” she laughed a little derisively. He grasped Lucilla’s elbow. She heard his voice screaming her name into the twilight as she fled, his cries trailing like banners, weaving through the breeze that had begun to gently stir the dew on the ground. After all a thousand pounds is a trifle to rid you of an upstart, who may chance to deprive you of tens of thousands. "I call this ere crib the Little-Ease, arter the runaway prentices' cells in Guildhall.
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