“Let go!” said Ann Veronica, through her teeth, strenuously inflicting agony, and he cried out sharply and let go and receded a pace. Through fire and water, through penury and pestilence, your hand will always be on his shoulder. ‘The fact of it is,’ I said, ‘I’m the new playwright, Thomas More. I have suffered him to be brought up decently—honestly; because I would make his fall the greater, and deepen the wound I meant to inflict upon his mother.
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