He looked at his port wine as though that tawny ruby contained the solution of the matter. He drove it into her missionary style, and though he was worried about hurting her, he could not stop himself from thrusting into her deeply. "Get a chair, Austin. I have since received a most extraordinary letter from her. Her mind invoked her husband, who she imagined lying dead in a ditch somewhere, tortured and killed by brigands or perhaps eaten by creatures like herself, a fate he actually deserved. But he does not come to see me since three days, even that these are my affairs and one could think that he would tell it to me if there is news, no?’ ‘When he has news to tell he will come, child, trust me,’ the old lady assured her. And you shall have a share of the gold for yourself.
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