There are way-stations—even terminals. The vestry door opened to the mews behind, and not to Golden Square. Consent to become my wife, and do not compel me to have recourse to violence to effect my purpose, and I will spare your son. His face warm, Captain Roding glared them into silence, and firmly marched his captive off down Piccadilly, heading for Stratton Street where the town house of the Alderley family was situated.
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