She heard the sounds of Rhea scuttling about, and then feeding, brutally. She felt him sometimes at night as he called to her in her dreams. ‘What happened, ma’am?’ enquired Gerald gently. \"I’ve never been to any of Lincoln’s dances. Looked all over that dratted convent of yours—or at least Trodger and the men did so—but no sign of them. Listening at one of the doors leading to the Master Debtors' side, he heard a loud voice chanting a Bacchanalian melody, and the boisterous laughter that accompanied the song, convinced him that no suspicion was entertained in this quarter. ’ ‘Like your father,’ Gerald put in deliberately.
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