The same look she had often seen in the eyes of the drunken beachcombers her father had brought home, and it had not filled her with horror. Slowly, he drew back his head and looked into her face. . . He brought home her first “meal”, a man who he 77 claimed was a highwayman who had raped several women and was destined for the hangman’s noose. And who knew if the men that Gerald had posted there would follow her to protect her somewhere else? In truth, where were these soldiers? She could not see them, although she assiduously searched the mist-shrouded square from the vantage point of the bay window in the large first floor room which had become her headquarters. ” The audience clapped when cued by Brown, not sure of what to do. Mrs. Spurling; Austin had never quitted his post. The lady had disappeared. Still, she knew instinctively that all of Sidney Carton's life had not been put upon the printed page. Not alone with her, that’s sure. “Loneliness,” she said, “is a luxury which I never permit myself. ‘Ah, no,’ Gerald uttered at once, lowering his voice and infusing it with all the promise he could command.
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