They would be partners only in loneliness. She could feel his warm little body trying to snuggle into her, trying to wriggle loose of his swaddling cloth. James Figg was the most perfect master of self-defence of his day. He could see lust virtually dripping from the dark-haired boy’s maw as she teased every last note from her shuddering violin, the devil in a black skirt. ‘But this is altogether a chance of the luckiest.
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