But for all that, it offered relief; his brain, stupefied by the fumes, grew dull, and conscience lost its edge to bite. Sebastian administered bitter tonics to her, fluids she could not taste with her swollen tongue. All the precious paintings and statues of the divine family were here, as was the enormous wooden crucifix set above the altar. "I can do without it," muttered Jack. It's precisely the same thing to me to bid my janizaries cut Thames Darrell's throat, as to order Jack Sheppard's execution. Yet she held her tongue. But native! She must watch out. You can borrow any of my outfits anytime, you know. Women are made like the potter’s vessels —either for worship or contumely, and are withal fragile vessels.
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