There were some deepseated fears of the rot spreading to England, if the simmering discontent of the peasantry of France were to erupt any further. ” Sebastian snorted. “But I—I went to Nigel Ennison for help. ” She whispered to him. She drifted, via Theobald’s Road, obliquely toward the region about Titchfield Street. He had promised her some books, for she had voiced her hunger for stories.
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