Did he intend to kill her now, this instant? Or had she a moment or two to try to save herself? Recalling Leonardo’s dictum, she did not struggle, for that would only tighten the trap about her, and perhaps even spring it. "No Mohocks! No Scourers!" cried the mob. "To shoot you would be to lose the reward. Wood's bed-chamber—it was locked, with the key left in it. ‘Precisely,’ agreed Gerald.
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