The folds of a thick muslin neckcloth in some degree protected him, but the gash was desperate. ‘Sir?’ Hilary threw a brief glance at Trodger, and quickly returned his intent gaze to the Frenchman, who had halted once more, and stood as if thinking deeply. The unexpected twist—his disclosure to McClintock—had given Spurlock but temporary relief. She caught her breath, and her eyes were lit with a sudden terror.
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