“I shall be very glad to have you for a friend,” he said, “loving friend. They did not care— servant or master, it meant nothing. “Ruin me? For what? Posterity? How could you ruin me, Lucy? What on earth are you talking about?” He got up and began to pace the room. I would be the kidnapper, of course, but we would forge ransom notes and exchange monies so that it appeared you were taken by brigands or plotters against the Iovelli family. Lead the lad to suppose that he'll be introduced to Lady Trafford. I left him in charge of Quilt Arnold and Rykhart Van Galgebrok—the skipper I spoke of— with strict orders to shoot him if he made any further attempt at escape; and they're not lads—the latter especially—to be trifled with. Small blame to her.
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