“It was poison—why not?” she answered. ” Sir John coughed. “Now step aside, I have some business to attend to. It was a boy baby cooing in swaddling clothes, a baby who had just been born to the butcher's servant across the alley, the maid Isobella who trailed behind, beaming. Both the fugitive and his chasers embarked on the Thames. . She nursed at his neck as he peacefully slumbered through being killed. But his hand was withheld by Thames.
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