“It’s odd—I have no doubt in my mind that what we are doing is wrong,” he said. Listening on the dimlit landing, he saw Roding’s face muscles tighten. ’ A tiny giggle escaped her, and she lowered the pistol a trifle. '" "'This be the verse you grave for me: Here he lies where he longed to be; Home is the sailor, home from the sea. I shall make no defence. Voilà tout.
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