. So long as she stood beside him, he was safe. She was in deadly earnest in everything she did. Asking her way once or twice, she passed along Fleet Street into the Strand, and crossed Trafalgar Square, into Piccadilly. A moment before he had been a strong man, she had been in his power, a poor helpless thing. Lucy grabbed the hand cannon, stuffing it with powder, nearly missing a swing of the sword meant for her neck. Double-crossing wouldn't do any good. 8. You're welcome to it.
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