Ann Veronica sat back with a sigh of relief. Cased and ribbed with stone, and braced with horizontal beams of timber, the piles, which formed the foundation of these jetties, had resisted the strong encroachments of the current for centuries. Her interest grew as she read, a certain distaste disappeared. There was a hint of tears in her voice. During this movement, Jack grasped the barrel of his pistol, held in his breath, and motioned to Blueskin, who bared a long knife, to keep still. It throbs cruelly. Blood dripped down one side of her forehead.
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