She pulled her hand away quickly. Snatching-up his pistols, he rushed to the door, but to his horror found it fastened. She reached for the door handle. ‘You don’t favour her, bar the black hair. But you could have just as easily lost your womb in the Pestilence, and your life. You hear what I say, Quilt?" he added, looking at Jack. "I shall want a bottle or two of sack, and a flask of usquebaugh.
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