Her gown was minimalist compared to those concoctions of boning and lace of long ago, she reflected, but that did not stop it from getting caught on 134 brambles and twigs. Escape was now impossible. “Enter Sir John, very honest, very much in love with me. There was a lapse of time, an interval of blackness; then he found his hand in hers and she was leading him at a run up the side of the mountain. What they do with him afterward is off my ticket, no concern of James Boyle; they can lock him up or let him go.
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