Every gibbet at Tyburn and Hounslow appeared to have been plundered of its charnel spoil to enrich the adjoining cabinet, so well was it stored with skulls and bones, all purporting to be the relics of highwaymen famous in their day. I would be chased by every curious party on this planet, by vampireseekers, by witch-hunters, by researchers, you name it. I begin to understand Jane Austen and chintz covers and decency and refinement and all the rest of it. "What?… Oh!… Well, good Lord!" He wrenched loose his head and stood up, sending the chair clattering to the floor. "Thank Heaven!" she gasped. Her hair had become so matted that Sebastian had sheared it off, which made her the very mirage of a nubile young boy. But not today. ‘You could have fetched me home.
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