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The folds of a thick muslin neckcloth in some degree protected him, but the gash was desperate. And who knew if the men that Gerald had posted there would follow her to protect her somewhere else? In truth, where were these soldiers? She could not see them, although she assiduously searched the mist-shrouded square from the vantage point of the bay window in the large first floor room which had become her headquarters. Blueskin fought his way towards it, and exerting all his strength, cutting right and left as he proceeded, reached it at the same time. Sometimes—a lonely forlorn child—she had gone to him and put her arms around his neck. ’ ‘Militia, miss,’ Kimble corrected her.
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