Silas would have wagered he was some kind of upstanding citizen in the rest of his life. He had to give it all up, and he had to be forced to it.It was no surprise he was fretting about a duty. That was what the Tory needed, not the pain or the shame but the surrender. There was something Silas planned to do again-keep him on the verge of firing his shot for an hour or more, make him plead and gasp for it. Looking for the right thing to do when his body was still marked by Silas’s fingers and teeth and prick, when he’d just been on his knees, begging for permission to spend. That made him think of the Tory last night, torn by his dilemma. Wouldn’t want to risk the law, after all.The law. It was a nuisance to do, especially since they’d just have to move it all back in a couple of days when he finished the next Jack Cade pamphlet, but better sure than sorry. “It felt like a good day.They’d put the heavy bookcase over the trapdoor to the cellar, where he kept the handpress.
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