A wooden balcony in one of the adjoining houses was thronged with ladies, all of whom appeared to take a lively interest in the scene, and to be full of commiseration for the criminal, not, perhaps, unmixed with admiration of his appearance. ‘You don’t even know what it means, do you?’ Melusine frowned. ” “Ay,” he repeated, looking away from her. ‘The fact of it is,’ I said, ‘I’m the new playwright, Thomas More. You may fall into the hands of your enemy. He did not explain what had happened to her.
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