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'Hold him there, lads!' their chief called out.
They pulled me to my knees and pinned my arms behind my back as he strode towards us. He ruffled the link boy's hair as he passed and somehow I realised strange! the clarity that comes to you in such a moment this was the boy's father. And I thought there was more affection and pride in that gesture than my father had shown me in a lifetime.
He came closer, crouching down in front of me, dark eyes skimming my face. 'I told you not to run,' he said, his voice muffled by the cloth.
I glared at him.
He signalled to one of his men.
'Wait . . .'
Too late. I felt a sharp blow on the back of my head. The world flashed white, and then it was gone.
Excerpted from The Devil in the Marshalsea by Antonia Hodgson. Copyright © 2014 by Antonia Hodgson. Excerpted by permission of Mariner Books. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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