Sebastian administered bitter tonics to her, fluids she could not taste with her swollen tongue. " "Hold your tongue, sirrah," rejoined Shotbolt, not over-pleased by the remark, "and mind what I tell you. As he passed out he saw in the hall a quietly dressed man with keen grey eyes, talking to one of the footmen. Gerald had been confident that the boy would not dream of disobeying an order thrown at him by a major of militia, but he guessed Jack might be wondering if he was about to be haled off to prison.
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