’ ‘A pox on the creature,’ swore Mrs Sindlesham, clenching and unclenching her stiff fingers. It is not a dissipated face. “Is there any urgency?” The doctor bent over his patient, who seemed to have fallen asleep. She uttered a little ejaculative note of joy and rushed to the bed. She had hardly noticed the loss of her dagger, so strong had been the waves of relief that attacked her on hearing that Jack had returned from death’s door. He smothered a laugh.
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