The rain smelled of the Tyrrhenian Sea, which lay only a few paces beyond the manor's white sea-soaked walls. ‘And that Suzanne, the sister of my cousin the vicomte, must choose between Monsieur Charvill and her brother. You see to what it has brought you. "Two hundred pounds, if he's lodged in Newgate before to-morrow morning," continued Wild.
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