A furious attack was made on Jonathan, who, though he defended himself like a lion, was desperately wounded, and would inevitably have perished if he had not been protected by the guards, who were obliged to use both swords and fire-arms upon the mob in his defence. He looked across at Annabel, and he groaned. ‘Softly, you say?’ she uttered, raging. They stank, and she hated how they blocked the sunlight.
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