She slipped down the perfunctory flight of stairs, short because of the home’s split-level style. " Sir Rowland, meantime, throw himself on his knees beside his sister, and, clasping her chilly fingers within his own, besought her forgiveness in the most passionate terms. Directly in range stood the strange young man, although he was at the far side of the loft. Jonathan, however, was nowhere to be seen. ‘Silence,’ he warned again, with a prod of the dagger at her heart.
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