They were now in a sort of cellar, at one end of which was a door. What are you going to tell me?" "Nothing. ‘As for your dagger—’ She held out her hand palm up, as if she expected him to give her the weapon. The same look she had often seen in the eyes of the drunken beachcombers her father had brought home, and it had not filled her with horror. Then we can loiter and gossip to our heart’s content. ‘That’s not much comfort. I can be a gentleman.
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