A pig, yes, a little. "Stand aside, Tom," commanded Kneebone. Strange, I could never learn her history. Much too young for you. "You must take it to Sir Rowland Trenchard's in Southampton Fields. He grabbed her wrist and prised the weapon from her fingers, ignoring her other hand that clawed at his to try to retain the trophy. Her knees shook, her breath came fast, she almost felt the lurid effect of those tiny patches of rouge upon her pallor-stricken cheeks.
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