He went on munching his water-chestnuts, and stared at the skyline. ‘Ain’t enough as my bed is took, my sheets all bloodied, and my gin took for to waste on that fellow’s wound. He was ill at ease, though he would not have confessed his disquietude even to himself. Parbleu, but she was a fool. Gerald glanced down and saw her dash at a spread of blood on his own hand, only now realising that her dagger had found its mark. G.
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