" In an angle of the Stone Hall was the Iron Hold, a chamber containing a vast assortment of fetters and handcuffs of all weights and sizes. ‘I’m a soldier, missie. She met the keen grey eyes of a clean-shaven man, between forty and fifty, quietly dressed in professional attire. ’ ‘I am afraid that there is,’ Gerald told her evenly. “I do hope you will see how things are, and not be offended with me or frightfully shocked and distressed by what I have done. Wood a very free-and-easy sort of stare, winked at Mr. .
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