Brendon was silent. "The blood that has been spilt is that of his wife. She slept in a bedroom clad in linens and skins, walked down hallways bedecked in the most gay and colorful frescos. She was aware of the body of the court, of clerks seated at a black table littered with papers, of policemen standing about stiffly with expressions of conscious integrity, and a murmuring background of the heads and shoulders of spectators close behind her. Wanton! Had I been one, even God would have forgiven me, understanding. " "I am sorry.
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