It was not an affair of the conscience; it was vaguely based upon insolence and defiance. He growled in his throat and, thrusting his coat open, revealed his own buckled sword-belt. I’d need to be out of my senses. It was instantly burst open, when the horrible stench that issued from it convinced them that it must be a receptacle for the murdered victims of the thief-taker. ” “Not in the least,” she assured him.
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