‘Leave it, imbecile. She was looking about her, and her face was dark with anger. There's a man dying—Captain Darrell. John finally wrested her away from the company of his parents, insisting that he wanted to take a walk in the park before it was completely dark. "Do they treat you ill?" asked her son. So often as she had herself manipulated a dagger, she could not mistake the shape that pressured across her chest, or the sharp point that dug below her bosom. The joy that filled her veins with throbbing fire urged her to rise and go swinging and whirling and dipping. I didn’t realize—I don’t see how I can get out of it now.
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