“Sebastianus? Where did my husband go?” He smiled at her gently, patronizingly, as he prevented her from movement or escape. The commissionaire stood there, tall and imperturbable. His hand fell lightly to her chest where her heart was 211 beating, almost tenderly. She had felt very uncomfortable around him, grotesque. “I told you I did not love you. The door crashed back against the wall inside and both men hurtled into the room, weapons at the ready—and stopped dead. Solomon Smith seemed to be Mr. Walpole, and then to Newgate.
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