He was in a position to help her. She was not squeamish—although the sight of the sergeant’s ominous preparations had severely tried her fortitude—but Kimble’s white face plagued her conscience. Kneebone, or, as he would have preferred being styled, Captain Kneebone, was not perfectly satisfied with the recommendations forwarded by the applicants. Conscience was always digging sudden pits for his feet and common sense ridiculing his fears. ” “I will tell her,” Anna promised. "Do me the favour to seat yourself, Jack," said Sir James.
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