org Section 4. He swore that I was his wife, and—I shot him, Nigel, as his arms were closing around me. As she looked in this direction, the thief-taker raised his eyes—those gray, blood-thirsty eyes!—their glare froze the life-blood in her veins. I've left mine on the spikes of the New Prison, and must borrow yours. ‘That’s better,’ said Gerald, and let her go.
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