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. "I used to cry myself to sleep, Hoddy, I was so forlorn and lonely. Sir John, who was standing outside, looked past him at the girl still sitting in the shadow. “What’s wrong?” He asked as she shifted awkwardly. I'll tell you what.
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