Playing with one hand he turned on his stool to glance at her. “Can you spare me a moment?” he asked. With the extra seventy-five pounds she had put after birthing her final son, Steven, her knees weren’t in good shape to be running up and down stairs all day. James Figg was the most perfect master of self-defence of his day. I knew it. Had she too been flying from something and had accepted this method of escape? But what frying-pan could be equal to this fire? All this led him back to the original circle.
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