Ramage’s bitterness passed as abruptly as his aggression. He drew both his pistols, and prepared for a desperate encounter. ’ The dagger was in her hand. I asked him to take me away, and hide me. I overlooked the mechanical imperfections of your work, the utter lack of finish, the crudeness of your drawing. But, being pushed forward by his subordinate officer, he was compelled to make a stand.
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