So appalling was the sight, that even the murderers—familiar as they were with scenes of slaughter,—looked aghast at it. Uttering a faint scream, she sank backwards, and would have fallen, if it had not been for the interposition of Blueskin, who, at that moment, staggered into the room with a candle in one hand, and the bottle in the other. “Now you look happy. She could feel his eyes surreptiously scanning her backside. "You've given me more than the amount, Sir Rowland," he said, after he had twice counted them, "or I've missed my reckoning. ’ Pierced to the heart by the poignancy of this utterance, Gerald could neither move nor speak.
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