‘I don’t want no gold! Not for serving my mistress. You are not with the Kent militia, are you?’ ‘West Kent, yes. On approaching the couch, they found Sir Rowland senseless, and extended over the dead body of his unfortunate sister. She tried gentle words with him, beguiling perfumes, even slipped aphrodisiac tisanes into his soup. Mr. Gerald saw her extract something and leapt aside, calling a warning to Hilary.
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