—Sorry to quit your lord—worships, I mean,—I don't know what I mean," she added, a little confused, and dropping a profound curtsey to the disguised noblemen, each of whom replied by a bow, worthy, in her opinion, of a prince of the blood at the least,—"but I've a few necessary orders to give below. The stairs creaked as Mark rushed down them. There was a tearing sound and the cloth of her habit ripped apart as the smothered point drove through it, missing its intended target. A species of vertigo seized him.
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