A hollow plunge, echoed and re-echoed by the walls, marked his descent into the water. Now he would take her away from the house before killing her, and no one would find her body at all. Jack Sheppard is to me what Thames Darrell is to you—an object of hatred. She remained stonily in the middle of the hallway until the spinsters' door shut them from view … for ever. I thought that I was marrying Meysey Hill, not that creature.
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