‘Let her go. I want to get away—to go to London. What matters it? My servant, he is wounded—and by a Frenchman, if you wish to make an arrest. They were a dull grey, but the dark frizzed hair that framed her face was attractive. As the time when his identity had to be proved approached, this rigour was, in a trifling degree, relaxed, and a few persons were occasionally admitted to the ward, but only in the presence of Austin.
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