She turned a resolute face southward. "Have you got Jonathan out of the way?" he asked, in an eager whisper. Keeping hold of the doorhandle, she turned slowly. ‘Alors, I see it. She heard their feet and muffled voices. What would you? I cannot fight them all. The house was redolent with the smells of cinnamon baking and the stuffed turkey and marinated pork roast.
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