But sadly, at Lullingstone we are too far off the coast to be of use. See paragraph 1. Outside stood a stocky, combat boot-clad girl of seventeen with a teased mass of spiky bottle-black hair. He turned the water off and handed her a towel. "I advised him not to trouble you farther about Jack Sheppard," answered the supposed janizary. Still, the respite was sufficient for Spurlock to look about for some weapon. She stumbled through a thorny copse, her slippers sliding on patches of sand that gave way to rock.
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