Her mind jumped with questions as fear raced through her and hardened into a bid for retaliation. A spot of colour, brighter than any rouge, burned on her cheeks. ‘Sergeant Trodger is who I am. Forgive me. "'Faith, an' you may say that," returned a watchman, who was wiping a ruddy stream from his brow; "they've broken the paice, and our pates into the bargain.
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