She leaned back in the corner of the cab with a little sigh of relief. He would give The Tigress a triple coat of paint, and take these two on a long cruise, wherever they wanted to go—Roundhead and Seraph, the blunderbus and the flaming angel. Edward Bribble stood between them with an open book. Show him no quarter, Poll. The colour slowly left her cheeks, the lines of her mouth hardened. Her slender throat was encircled by a black riband, with a small locket attached to it; and upon the top of her head rested a diminutive lace cap. Their faces had bite marks that were hers. Shortly Ruth and Spurlock took the way home.
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