“Ye Gods!” she said at last. She had already killed more than she wanted to count, yet she had counted them still. The open books she knew by heart; aye, they had been ground into her, morning and night. “May you have as much good fortune as you deserve, but not enough to make you forget us. Ousted from his old retreat, the Cross Shovels, Baptist Kettleby opened another tavern, conducted upon the same plan as the former, which he denominated the Seven Cities of Refuge.
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