"You've got him?" demanded Ireton. "I'll run and bring him back. “I love you, you know. " "From whom?" vociferated Trenchard. ” She glared at Sebastian over the drawing table where she was sketching in chalk, then over at the fifteen year old boy who was asleep in a disheveled pile of rushes in the corner. ‘You usually do,’ he said lightly. Where the devil have you hidden all those weapons? Don’t tell me you’ve got ’em with you. There was only one prisoner in the ward.
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