Martin said “Hi” to her in the halls every day now, a sure sign of trouble. She was not squeamish—although the sight of the sergeant’s ominous preparations had severely tried her fortitude—but Kimble’s white face plagued her conscience. And his scarlet coat had nothing to do with it, as Hilary was fond of recounting, for he had been in civilian clothes when they met, as he was tonight. Saint Giles's Round-house. "I've just recollected that my husband left a key with me, which he charged me to give you when I could find an opportunity.
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