’ ‘Now then, missie,’ began the sergeant severely, ‘just you hand over that dagger. There was only one small grated window in this hold, which admitted but little light. Her mouth was an effective tourniquet. It could only mean one thing—that her foster daughter was both a whore and a murderer! When Sheila confronted her about it, it was five in the morning. What do you say to Brighton——” Anna looked at him quietly—and he never finished his sentence.
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