"A mother's prayers—a mother's blessings," she cried, with the fervour almost of inspiration, "will avail against a fiend's malice. What of Gosse, whom those soldiers had allowed to escape? Hiding—or perhaps gone. Enschede halted. . Cathy threw Mike a look. ’ ‘You traitor, Gerald,’ laughed Lucilla, her yellow curls bouncing under a huge straw bonnet all over flowers.
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