At least I can’t talk to them. " CHAPTER VI. ‘Say it. Away off in the fields the bluesmocked peasants bent still at their toil. "But vere'll be the use o' vinnin'? you von't live to pay me. Spurling, half aside. ‘Oh, dearie me, you make me feel a traitor. Automatically, she glanced at the slight red graze left on her neck that marked the point where Gerald’s sword had nicked her.
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