I didn’t think—I don’t know what I thought. And before Kneebone could draw his sword, he felled him to the ground with the iron bar. She dropped the locket into its sweet hiding place. Later that night, after she had cleaned herself and changed her clothes, he returned. Loving was self-forgetfulness, pure delighting in another human being. ” “An appetite like yours,” he said resignedly, “is fatal to all sentiment. “You are positively eloquent to-night—both of you,” she declared.
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