As to his mother, I've no pity for her. She bound a scarf tightly round the place where the blood seemed to be coming from. Above all, beware of Sir Rowland Trenchard. Curiosity held her by one hand, urging her to recklessness, and caution held her by the other. Perhaps that sealed letter was a form of confession, and thus relieved him on that score. Closing the door, Jonathan next produced his lantern, and, hastening towards the window, undrew a bolt by which it was fastened.
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