. She should have slapped him but she was in shock at her own thoughts of lust that arose. "Fear nothing, Sir," said the man, in a voice which Thames instantly recognised as that of Blueskin. She responded at once, rapping him on the knuckles with her fan. He tried not to think—of Ruth with her mother's locket, of her misguided father, taking his lonely way to sea. Her mouth was once more covered as they left the second floor guest saloon and headed for the back stairs. But you must not imagine me wrapped in melancholy.
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