” She gestured to an abandoned farmhouse down a long stretch of icy dirt road. Darting forward at this sound, Jack threw open the door, and beheld Quilt kneeling over Thames, who'se hands and feet were bound with cords, and about to plunge his sword into his breast. His face was much handsomer than Gianfrancesco’s, his lips thinner, his brow much more noble and wise.
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