’ Speeding down the two flights of stairs, Gerald mentally thanked God that it was the practice of himself and Roding—in case of emergency, of which this was a prime example—to stable their horses at the posting inns all the way to London. She wanted him, she needed sex, but the two ideas had not formed an equation where a concrete result could be deduced. His eyes were closed. The doors were closed and barricaded, and the mob threatened to burst them open if Jack was not delivered to them.
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