The great door of the Stone Hall was thrown open, and the sheriffs, preceded by the javelin-men, entered the room. The blow had brought him back to the realm of sober thought. “It isn’t a joke,” she said. There was only one idea in his head now—to batter and bruise and crush this weakling, then cast him at the feet of his love-lorn wife. The concourse extended along Giltspur Street as far as Smithfield. Jonathan stepped behind a curtain. There were perches inside where she could crouch and labyrinths underneath where she could hide. “I like to think of your offer.
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