“I told you I did not love you. "Do you take me for as great a villain as yourself, Sir?" said the knight, rising. The unknown, previously so attractive, now presented another face—blank. Not with the unavoidable explanations, and the need to secrete the sword and hide it before returning the priest’s horse to its stable—which had been her excuse for running from Martha’s protestations. The prisoner was then thrust in by Quilt.
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