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She stared down at them from a high window, peering down at their moonlit faces in the bed heavy with furs, the same bed where she had given birth to Gianfrancesco’s dead son. Sheppard, bitterly. ” Lucy commented. His lovely black eyes softened until they became like languid as the night sky. It was an intimate smell, the unmistakable scent of him and another woman. When Jack came to speak of Jonathan Wild, his countenance fell.
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