Crouching down, Gerald waited, hands at the ready. ‘Jacques?’ she called. Another long interval elapsed. He had chosen his time well. “You know,” he muttered, “you know quite well that your troubles are far more likely to weigh upon me than my own. She was no longer there. “But—your people!” she gasped. While this was effected, intelligence was brought that a formidable mob was pouring down Field Lane, the end of which was barricaded.
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