’ ‘Truly?’ asked Melusine, warmth lighting her bosom. Hearing the noise of the scuffle, the tapstress, fancying it was Jack making an effort to escape, in spite of the remonstrances of the executioner, threw open the wicket. Lucy tried not to notice the starched smell, overpowering and powdery. Not far from him was a knot of lads drinking, swearing, and playing at dice as eagerly and as skilfully as any of the older hands.
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