"Miss Enschede—such an odd name!—are you French?" "Oh, no. Members of the crowd looked over their shoulders and stared at her through the smoky haze. The ruffian caught hold of her hair, and held her fast. She opened her eyes. She was naturally weaker, she would tire quicker, and she need not concern herself with the peculiar obligations of honour obtaining amongst gentlemen. Prudence? Mr Remenham’s sister that was.
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